


Let me count the ways.

by Wapwani



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), dragon queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F, doesn't start off as an M rating...but we get there eventually, dragon queen au, stuffed with fluff, there is no plot here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:49:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wapwani/pseuds/Wapwani
Summary: An AU set in a modern day equivalent of a realm where magic is commonplace, but not everyone has the same levels of power. This is a realm where Zelena and Regina grew up as sisters; a realm without a Dark One or a dark curse; a realm where the local school has a dragon teaching flying lessons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, you may have noticed me tearing my hair out over a title for this fic. I've finally decided to steal part of Browning's first line from Sonnet 43 "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways." Because this story is essentially about all the different ways this little group of people love each other.
> 
> It is also virtually devoid of plot, which is hella unusual for me. There will be no stressy bits, just lots and lots of fluff, the occasional family conflict, and then some more fluff. 
> 
> (Oh yes, this is the 'what if Mal was Henry's PE teacher, and Regina was totally flustered the first time she saw her out of PE kit and dressed up to the nines' fic).

There was a cold wind blowing as Regina Mills hurried across the playing fields. She wore heels, of course, and she could feel them sink into the sod underfoot, but she was in too much of a hurry to use the walkways that went between the fields. She could see the group of flyers - the flying field was at the far end of the grounds, where there were no tall trees or powerlines to create obstructions for inattentive young students. There were a few children on the ground, but most of them were up in the air, their broomsticks weaving through intricate patterns. It had been years since Regina had been up on a broom, but she thought the maneuvers she saw seemed rather complicated, if not downright dangerous.

As she increased her pace, she noticed another person cutting across the field from the main school building on an intercept path. Even at a distance and in the grey light, she could make out the startling red hair and the familiar emerald cloak. She waved.

“Zelena!” 

“Regina!” her sister called. “I was just going out to fetch him. His flying class went a bit long.”

They’d met up by now, falling into a matching pace, Regina’s hurried steps making up for the advantage Zelena’s height gave her.

“His class should have finished twenty minutes ago!” Regina said, exasperated. “I’ve been waiting out in the parking lot for ages!”

“I know. I know. But look how much fun he’s having!”

She slowed as she followed her sister’s directive, noticing details she’d been too distracted to pay attention to.

She could tell immediately which young person was Henry, even without the tell-tale sign of his dark hair whipping wildly in the wind; she reminded herself to insist he had a haircut. She could hear his voice, made smaller by distance, whooping in delight as he executed a heart-stopping move that sent him barreling towards the ground before he banked and rolled out of the way of another broom.

_“What_  is he doing?! I don’t remember flying class being like this!”

“If you’d stuck it out to the advanced group, maybe you would,” Zelena replied, the faintest hint of teasing snideness in her voice.

“That looks far too dangerous, Zelena!”

“You signed the slip, Regina!”

“I…” A memory stirred. Henry talking about his new flying instructor, and how ‘cool’ she was, and how she had said that he was good enough to be in her ‘special’ class, and Regina had looked into her son’s bright, eager, eyes, glanced over the permission slip for extra classes after school (‘Nurse on call at all times’, she remembered it saying, and ‘Every precaution for safety will be taken’. That hadn’t sounded nearly as ominous then as it did now). 

“…I did.” she continued. “But I didn’t realise he’d be up there doing barrel rolls!” 

Her guilt made her voice harsh and grating. She had allowed her instinctive caution to be swayed by Henry’s eagerness and pleasure.

“He’s fine, Regina. Really. Maleficent called him a prodigy. And he’s only with the year 9s, so it’s not so terribly difficult.  _You_  could probably still do some of this if you really put your mind to it. And stretched first.”

Regina glared at her, not missing the attempted deflection of the gentle insult, but she chose to respond as a proud mother.

“A prodigy?”

Zelena grinned.

“Look at him, Regina.”

And Regina looked again, trying to stop her heart from pounding in panic, and saw her son … being adept at flying a broomstick and looking incredibly happy as he did so. 

She sighed.

Henry was going to be taking Advanced Flying.

“Is Maleficent this new flying instructor he’s so keen on? The dragon with the odd name?”

“Hmm,” Zelena’s response was a pleased little purr. “That’s her over there.”

They had reached the boundary lines of the flying field, and Regina could see the other two adults out here. The man she was familiar with; he was one of the school’s nurses, the rotund, permanently-miserable looking Mr. Clark. The other person then must have been the new flying instructor, Maleficent LeFey; a recent hire who was, so Regina assumed, yet another of Madam Lucas’s waifs and strays. 

The woman was tall, and her sharp, aristocratic features were chapped and reddened by the wind. Any other details were lost underneath bulky sweatpants and a thick hooded jacket. Madam LeFey was clapping her gloved hands, calling her students in to land in a booming magic-enhanced voice. 

Regina watched from the sidelines as her son joined the little group of laughing, excited teenagers. He was the smallest of them, but the older children made room for him, patting his shoulder and saying what looked like encouraging, complimentary things. Madam LeFey said a few words to him in passing, and Henry’s face lit up with that delighted smile she loved so much.

When the class was dismissed, the instructor and the other children transported away, the swirls of smoke their magic left behind dissipating quickly in the brisk breeze. Henry ran over to his mother and his aunt, waving excitedly.

“Did you see me, Mum?” he cried. “Did you see me fly?”

“I did, darling. You were so brave!”

“It was awesome! I came off a few times-“ His mother had already seen the mud that caked his legs and side, the scrapes along his face. “But Mr Clark said I must be made of iron. Didn’t even hurt!”

“Remind me to show you my scars sometime, Harry,” Zelena said.

“Henry,” Regina cut in automatically. She didn’t know why she bothered. She knew Zelena was only doing it to get a rise out of her, and it had become just another nickname to Henry.

Zelena, as expected, ignored the correction and kept talking.

“All down my back. I was dragged along the ground for a good hundred metres. It’s a miracle I’m alive really. Still got back on the broom and finished the routine.”

“Ah, you’re the best Aunt Zee.”

She growled at the use of his retaliatory nickname for her, and Regina had to stop herself from grinning. Not that the two of them ever needed her encouragement to tease each other.

“We really should get going,” she said instead. “Wouldn't want to keep Mother waiting.”

Tardiness to the weekly family dinner at Cora Mills’ house was not something that would be lightly forgiven.

“How about a little hocus-pocus Harry?” Zelena asked, waggling her fingers at him. “At least to get you cleaned up and changed? Save us from a lecture about how little respect we have for your grandmother’s time?”

Henry glanced at his mother and nodded reluctantly.

“Just this once,” he said. “And I’ll remember to ask Madam LeFey if I can leave class earlier next week.”

Regina smiled at her son and brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Never mind, Henry. You go and get showered and change. I’ll meet you at the car, and we’ll talk to your grandmother about pushing dinner back a little. Or going over there on a different day. Mother will just have to deal with it.”

Henry’s grateful smile was worth whatever sarcastic comments her mother would make to her about her son’s choice of extracurricular activity. 

Zelena waited until Henry had run out of earshot before she said, “I’ll go over there early. Create a diversion. Draw her fire. She wont have much left for you by the time you get there then.”

Regina smiled ruefully at her sister.

“What have you been up to,  _Zee?”_

Zelena snorted. 

“Oh, the usual. Apparently I’m unmarriageable. She fixed me up with the  _nicest_  young woman. But it turns out her sister was so much more fun.”

Regina laughed.

“You know she’s going to trot out the old ‘your sister married a  _king’_  line, don’t you?”

“Hmm. And look how well that turned out. No offense dear.” 

“None taken. I will never regret anything that gave me Henry.”

“Honestly,” Zelena said with fond exasperation. “You’re as bad as some of the mothers I have to deal with every day.” Her voice became high-pitched and whiny. “ _‘Oh my darling little Peasbody Blossombottom, see how the sun shines out of his arse.’”_ She sighed. “It’s a good thing for you that Harry is exactly as wonderful as you think he is.”

Regina’s smile was a little sad. She clasped Zelena’s arm gently.

“You don’t have to sacrifice yourself to save me.”

“Oh bollocks. It’ll be fun. I love it when Mother's face gets all pinched, don’t you? It's good fun to see how many veins I can get to pop out on her forehead. Right, I’d best get on. Still lots to do before I can leave. See you at Mother's. Don’t rush!”

Zelena’s magic flared a bright green, so unlike Regina’s own purple. On the surface of it, the two sisters were as different as the manifestation of their power, making it difficult for many people to believe they were related, let alone friendly. But Regina knew that, for all their prickliness and sarcasm, she and Zelena stood firmly in each other’s corners.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mills Family dinner

When she'd parked the car in the mostly-empty street outside her mother's home, Regina cast the rather complicated spell that would indicate to her mother that they had arrived. Only then would Cora lower the powerful wards around her house long enough to allow her and Henry to pass. Cora changed this spell every two weeks; in all the time she had been bringing Henry to dinner, Regina had never known her to repeat an entry-request spell. 

Some may think Cora a bit paranoid, but when you were amongst the most powerful magic users in the kingdom, you tended to have accumulated a lot of enemies. The Mills family was only a recently established powerhouse, and Cora had strategically feuded and dueled with at least half the families of note to keep them in that position. She was greatly disappointed that neither of her daughters seemed willing to follow in her footsteps. Zelena did duel with some regularity, but her duels tended to be more personal than political, arising from a heat-of-the-moment succumbing to passion or emotion - alcohol and sex featured in virtually all of them. And although Regina had shown great promise once, she did not duel or feud, not since she'd become a mother herself; she said she had too much at stake to indulge in powerplays. Being appointed Mayor had only made her stiffer in her refusal to use her power to advance the family's position. 

But despite her offspring's disinterest in political power, Cora still plotted and schemed and smarmed her way along the corridors of influence and power. She was the undisputed matriarch of the Mills family, carrying the lesser cousins along with her on her coattails, even though those cousins rarely rated an audience with Cora in her home.

Her daughters  _were_  regular visitors, but despite knowing the way well enough, a butler led Regina and Henry through the palatial mansion to the dining room. Mother insisted on a very formal seating for their weekly dinners; the table was lit with candles, the crystal glinted brightly, and the silverware clinked prettily against the fine porcelain crockery. Two manservants in formal black coats stood on either side of the room, ready to help the maids serve as soon as the dinner guests had all arrived. Sounds of harps and violins provided a backdrop to the 'refined dinner conversation' Cora also insisted on.

She may have insisted on it, but she didn't often get it.

Tonight for instance, Zelena was holding forth on the virtues of a woman she had met in a tavern; she was waxing lyrical about her tattooed arms and pierced lip. When she went over to press a kiss to her cheek, Regina counted three veins throbbing in her mother's temple. Zelena was outdoing herself.

"She sounds lovely," Cora ground out at last. "I hope you dipped her in disinfectant before you took her home."

"She's a healer," Zelena breathed out a happy little sigh. "She had all the disinfectant you could possibly hope for, Mother."

Cora pursed her lips into a vinegary little smile, and turned to Regina.

"Did you have something more pressing to attend to than dinner? Another bridge falling to the trolls? You were a queen once, Regina. Did you not learn to delegate?"

"Henry had extra classes," Regina said, glancing at her son with a fond smile. "An advanced lesson."

"Something worthwhile, I trust?" Cora sniffed.

"I'm flying broomsticks with Year 9!" Henry said, excited to share the news. "It's so much fun, Grandma. Our instructor is new this year. She's brilliant!"

Cora glanced at Regina, her gaze cold.

"Broomsticks?"

"He's in the advanced class," Regina reminded her, tensing herself to intercept whatever barbs her mother would throw.

"I think it's brilliant," Zelena said breezily. "Chip off the old block, eh Harry? Wait, can your aunt be the old block?"

"I don't think so," Regina responded, with a grateful smile at her sister for the diversion.

"My father flew," Cora said; for just a moment, her voice was soft and sweet, the voice of a proud little girl.

"He did?"

Both Regina and Zelena leaned forward eagerly, and the moment was lost.

"Until he learned some sense." Cora glared at her daughters. "He made more of himself as a Warlock bringing order to the borderlands than he ever would have flitting around on an overgrown twig!"

She turned her glare on Henry, although it was mostly wasted on him as he was very focused on slicing into a wedge of minced quail pie.

"I trust you aren't slacking off on the real work at school, young man?"

"No, Grandma," Henry replied, crumbs scattering across the tablecloth as he spoke.

Another vein throbbed in Cora's forehead.

Regina just managed to keep herself from groaning and burying her face in her hands. Henry's manners were _impeccable_  at home, but for some reason, now that he was in his grandmother's house he seemed to have forgot everything he knew about dining etiquette.

From the corner of her eye she caught Zelena's huge grin and thumbs up gesture at Henry. She was prevented from frowning at both of them by her mother asking, “Will you be planning to attend the Birthday Celebrations at the Palace this year?”. 

“No, Mother,” Regina sighed. “I will be at the public celebrations at the Park. As always. And anyway, I doubt Snow would want to offer me a seat at the table.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Cora said archly. “Besides, there are ways and means. I could pull a few strings-“

“No, Mother,” Regina said more forcefully.

“Everyone knows the hot ticket will be at the Park,” Zelena said, before Cora could escalate to an argument. “The ban has _finally_ been lifted!”

“What ban?” Henry asked.

Cora sighed. “The ban that kept your school from performing at the Celebrations. Fourteen years.” She shook her head at Zelena. “An entire generation of students before the memory of what you did could be wiped clean.”

“What did-“ Henry started to ask.

“Brought shame to the Mills name,” Cora said abruptly. “And we will say no more about it.”

There was silence for a moment. Zelena looked away from the table, her eyes flinty.

Regina leaned towards her sister. “What will the school put up? At the Celebrations? Not the flyers, of course.”

Zelena offered her sister a tight smile. “Maleficent is actually petitioning hard for the junior troupe. But it’ll be the arsonists of Year 12.”

“Zelena!” Cora reprimanded, with a pointed glance at Regina, who was examining her wine glass with an overly casual air.

“Ah. Right. Sorry. The Advanced Magecraft class, the fire mages. They put on quite the show, don’t they Harry? You’ve seen them - flinging fireballs willy nilly all over the school.”

“They’re awesome!” Henry said, a little breathless in his enthusiasm.

“Did you know, your mother performed for the King,” Cora told Henry. “She was a fire mage of some repute. Top of her class.”

“Really, Mum? You’ve never said.”

“It was a long time ago, darling.” Her voice was suddenly weighted down, making her sound tired. 

“There’s very little need for fireballs behind a Mayor’s desk,” Cora said shortly. “It’s a waste of your power, Regina.”

“I think you’re more terrifying as bureaucrat than a fire mage,” Zelena told her sister loyally. “Although I know a few trolls and ogres who may think differently!”

That only earned her a small smile from Regina, and a warning glance. The borderlands were far away, and the warlocks and witches of the kingdom’s Defense forces did good work. But every so often something would slip through. And when that happened, Regina would abandon her desk and go off to help meet the threat head on. Her son was aware of all the work she did to keep their town safe, including how she sometimes worked directly with the Defense forces. But he didn’t need to hear about those times in any kind of detail that would keep him up at nights, worrying about his mother’s safety.

Until Regina’s subdued mood eased,  Henry and Zelena returned to their unsanctioned competition, trying to outdo each other with outrageous behaviour that would make Cora seethe. It kept her attention firmly on them, and away from any further conversation about Birthday Celebrations or uncomfortable memories.

When dinner was finally over (Cora kept a generous table), Regina still looked a little worn out. As she and Henry walked towards the door, she curled her hands around Zelena's arm and leaned into her sister's shoulder.

"Tell me again why you make us come here every week?" Zelena asked quietly as they made their way to Regina's car.

"She's family, Zelena. No matter what else."

"I think you should get to pick who your family is," Zelena said stubbornly.

"Oh, I agree," Regina patted Zelena's hand placatingly. "But Mother is...you can see it in her sometimes, can't you? There's a different woman in there. Someone good. Someone better than this."

Zelena sighed and covered Regina's hand with her own.

"I won't give up on her," Regina said fiercely. "Not yet."

"I don't think she sees herself like you do," Zelena told Regina. She stood to the side as Regina unlocked the car with a physical key. "I may feel differently about it if I thought she realised how odious her ambition is, but she's blind to her own faults."

Regina sighed. 

"Maybe she'll see the truth someday."

"And what?" Zelena asked, slightly distracted as she hugged Henry goodnight. "Be so horrified with the awareness that she reforms herself?"

"Stranger things have happened," Regina smiled.

Zelena shook her head ruefully and hugged her sister tightly.

"Your optimism will be the death of me, Regina."

"Do you think she enjoys hearing about your exploits, or watching Henry attempt to flick grape seeds into the flower pots?"

Zelena reached through the open car window and ruffled Henry's hair, mouthing 'good one'. He grinned back at her.

"And yet she has us back here every week," Regina continued. "Doesn't that tell you something?"

"That she's hoping she'll wear us down," Zelena muttered.

Regina smiled and patted her sister's cheek gently. 

"I hope for different things."

"Really killing me here, sister dear. I don't think Mother deserves your loyalty."

"You don't have to come here. You know that, don't you? I wouldn't hold it against you if-"

"Hah. No. I'm not leaving you to face her without back up! What is it you always tell me? All that guff about family and sticking together and being there for each other."

"'Guff' huh?" Regina grinned.

Zelena ignored the teasing, saying in a serious tone, "You're my family, Regina. You and Henry. And as long as you put up with her, I will too. But let's be clear about it. I'm not doing it for her."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering where she is, Maleficent shows up in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina goes to a parent-teacher conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be backstory. And probly more thoughts about what lessons would be taught to Year 7s in a world of magic than you ever wanted. 
> 
> Also, Mal wears a dress.
> 
> Slightly longer update than usual, because it's going to have to tide us all over for a bit while I work out some stuff.

Regina hurried through the halls of the school. She hated the bustle and chaos of parent-teacher conferences, but she hated being late for them even more. It couldn’t have been helped though. An emergency had arisen that she, as the town’s chief administrative official, had to attend to. 

Her position was one of the settlements Leopold had insisted on as part of the annulment of their marriage. He had thought making her Mayor of Storybrooke would be a punishment, putting her in charge of running the little town that served as his summer holiday home. She could imagine how his thought processes had gone -  _Cora Mills wanted her daughter to rule, very well then, I’ll force her to be a pencil-pushing coin-counting bureaucrat in a town of no consequence!_

Neither of them - not Leopold  _nor_  Regina - had anticipated how much she would enjoy the task. And the little town had never been run better. Even after Leopold had died, and Snow had moved the summer palace to be closer to the mountains and sheep-herding country her husband was so fond of, when members of Storybrooke’s Council begged Regina to stay on as mayor, she had said yes. Some councilors still accidentally referred to her as ‘your Majesty’, but Regina was more than content to be simply ‘your Worship’ or ‘the Mayor’.

Being Mayor would not save her from Madam Lucas’s disappointed look if she missed her appointments with Henry’s teachers though, so she sped up her pace through the empty halls, her heels clicking rapidly along the stone floors.

She entered the Grand Hall and was immediately struck by a wave of heat and noise. The large room seemed so much smaller when it was filled with a few hundred parents and teachers talking up a murmuring ocean of sound. There were no windows in the Grand Hall, and Regina could sense the spells the school had cast to try to increase the effectiveness of the ancient air-conditioning system; spells that were obviously overburdened and failing to remove the muggy heat that emanated from the collected throng of people. 

She paused in a corner to get her bearings, allowing her senses to adjust from the cool quiet of the corridor. Thankfully, she’d only need a few minutes with each of Henry’s teachers. Her son was studious and took his lessons very seriously, very much like she had when she herself had been a student. 

She’d been in a different school back then, a well-known finishing school for young ladies, especially those from powerhouse families. Zelena had started out in the same school, but there had been too many outrages and scandals, and in Year 11, when she’d been found sneaking out of her dorm to go to taverns and dance on tables and make out with the headmaster’s oldest daughter - not even Cora Mills’ considerable influence could have kept her from being expelled. 

Madam Lucas had taken Zelena in, offering her a place in her school - a school that had an undeserved reputation for being a refuge for wastrels and scoundrels and misfits. The truth was that Madam Lucas ran a school where children whose families and societies expected too much of them - who were often considered the black sheep of their families - could find room to breathe. Zelena had thrived here, had finished her schooling and gone off to study magic as an apprentice to a witch who lived in a cold island country across the sea. 

When Zelena had eventually returned home, loud and bright and taking up more space than a daughter raised by Cora Mills should have been able to, she had gravitated back to this school, and back to Madam Lucas. She worked now as the headmistress’s assistant; Regina suspected that Agatha Lucas was only waiting until she was sure Zelena could handle the responsibility before she bequeathed the school to her and retired to live in a little cottage in the forest.

Regina’s path after she’d left school had taken her to a very different fate than her sister. Cora plotted and schemed to bring Regina to the widowed King Leopold’s attention, to arrange a proposal of marriage, to maneuver Regina into position where she would someday rule the kingdom.

Zelena had not been here for Regina’s wedding, but the sisters had stayed in regular contact, talking to each other often via crystal. Though frequent, their conversation covered only general topics - the weather, the differences in food, the strangeness of the customs of nobility and royalty. They had kept much of the truth of their frustrations and pain from each other, and their interactions had all been very inoffensive and dull until one day Regina had sobbed, “I’ve fallen in love.”

“Not with Leopold I take it?” Zelena had said drily.

“No. Daniel. He works in he stables.”

“Oh. My darling girl.”

Over the following weeks, Zelena had tried to support Regina in her own inimitable way, offering outrageous suggestions for what Regina could say to ensure Leopold would release her from the marital contract ( _“Tell him you’re pregnant by your stableboy! Leopold hates a scandal, and unvirtuous women!”_ )

They had finally settled on a course of action - Regina would ask for an annulment because she loved another man. It was a simple plan, but an unprecedented request. 

The King and their mother had raged, but somehow Regina had found the courage to stand steadfast. In the end, Leopold had tired of Regina’s unwavering insistence that she would continue her relationship with Daniel no matter what the King did. She was too powerful in magic for him to hold her or Daniel in any prison, and he did not trust Zelena to not do something drastic and dangerous if he had threatened her sister or her lover with any harm. 

So he had let Regina go, but only after making it very clear that it was his choice, and done for the good of his kingdom and his daughter’s inheritance. He had delivered his judgement in a long rambling speech that went on for an hour; all Regina remembered of it was her mother’s furious gaze and the sound of her own rapidly beating heart as her freedom beckoned. 

Regina and Daniel had moved in together almost immediately. They had planned for a spring wedding. She had fallen pregnant before that, and they had a few months of happiness and hope together. But then had come the terrible accident that took Daniel from her, leaving her alone and pregnant with a child who would never know his father.

That was when Zelena came home, bursting into the little house where Regina lived, refusing to leave her side, staying up late into the night and talking to her while Regina curled up in ball and sobbed into her sister’s shoulder. 

That had been nearly twelve years in the past now, and Regina had not sobbed into anyone’s shoulder since the night Henry was born and the postnatal tests showed that he had no magical ability. The nurses had looked at her with pity; the doctors had talked of probabilities and the rolling dice that was genetics; her mother had been insulting, blaming Daniel’s ‘ _inferior stock’_. Something had snapped in Regina in that moment, and her anger had risen, fierce and protective. She had banished the medical staff and her mother from her hospital room, pushing them away with a magic so primal that even the powerful Cora Mills could do nothing to stave it off. 

Zelena had stood in the corner and watched, a proud smile on her face. Her only comment had been, “We’d best get him enrolled with Madam Lucas then.”

 Regina’s defensive anger, particularly when it came to Henry, had never really gone away, but she’d learned to temper it over time, to give Henry the space and confidence to fight his own battles. He’d need that ability in a kingdom where his family name carried certain expectations, expectations of power and skill and a natural affinity with the magic that drove so much of their world.

Madam Lucas’s school had lots of experience with children of little magical ability, particularly those who were born to powerhouse families. So even though a child with no power at all was exceedingly rare, Henry took virtually all of the regular classes with his peers. Just like any other child at this school, his name and his mother’s and aunt’s positions earned him no privilege or advantage. Regina was very glad for this egalitarian approach, especially at evenings like this, where there were so many parents wandering the Grand Hall, bristling with the need to prove themselves through their child’s accomplishments.

 

The meetings with his teachers went as expected; his Maths teacher thought he was working well but needed a little more tutoring to make sense of the equations that were at the base of so much spell casting. Just because Henry would never actually cast any spells did not mean that he could not understand the Mathemagics at their core. (Regina already knew Henry had heard the phrase “There is beauty in theory, Mister Mills” so many times, he was beginning to believe it). Languages was an easy conversation; Henry was making good progress in reading and writing Elvish, Latin, and Bemba but his accent was atrocious. (“He’ll not have to worry about mispronouncing a spell, so we don’t have to stress too much on it” his teacher had said with a kind smile). Ancient Lands was a well-loved subject, and his teacher gushed about Henry’s project on Atlantis and Zinjj. ( _“So_  well written,  _so_  emotive, I could almost feel the waves lapping over my head and the dust choking in my throat.”) Natural Sciences was a bone of contention; Regina wanted Henry to be better at it, but his teacher really didn’t see the point in pushing any harder, when Henry was so obviously uninterested in anything approaching scientific rigour. (“He’s an inquisitive lad, Ms Mills, but a tad fanciful. He worries more about whether atoms talk to each other than any alchemist should.”) They had left it at an uneasy impasse - with a promise for more structured project work and to revisit this discussion at the next conference. 

By the time Regina had worked through most of her appointments, (saving only Texts and Legends, and Flying), she had developed a slight headache from the noise and heat, but generally felt like she was having a successful evening. Henry would not be a great academic, or create new and powerful spells, but he was doing well, and he was happy, and his teachers were generally pleased with his progress. She counted each of the latter as victories and regretted none of the former.

Regina glanced around the room, looking for the last two people on her list, who just so happened to be Henry’s favourite teachers - Ms Belle French, the school’s chief librarian who also taught Texts and Legends, and the elusive Madam Maleficent LeFey. Regina had seen the flying instructor on the field a few times since she had first watched Henry in her advanced class, but they had yet to speak or meet formally. 

At this point, Madam LeFey was nothing more to her than a shapeless figure, constantly bundled up against the cold, and the star of many of Henry’s happiest stories about his days at school. She had some trepidation about meeting this teacher, who she assumed to be a big, jolly woman, with a hearty laugh; the kind of woman who probably drank beer, clapped people cheerfully on the back, and swore too much. (It has to be noted that Regina may have been basing that assumption on the memory of her own flying instructor from when she was in school.)

Regina found Ms French before she did Madam LeFey. The librarian had been cornered by a floridly dressed woman, who loomed over the young teacher even though she wasn’t that much bigger than her in stature. Confronted with an angry face and berating words, Ms French seemed to be collapsing in on herself as the woman spoke. 

“I don’t see why Brendan isn’t passing this class. He  _can_  read.”

“Yes Mrs Rockfort. But Texts is more than-“

“And it’s not like this is anything  _important._  Dusty old books that no one cares about.”

“Old books _are_ important. So much of what we know is being lost-“

“Brendan is  _not_  a historian, Ms French. Brendan will be a defense warlock. He does not need to know about ancient stories! For goodness sake anyone with half a brain can see how little importance there is in Library arts! Don’t you agree -“  She turned, as if looking for support for her claims, and saw Regina.

“Oh. Mayor Mills. I didn’t notice you were there.”

“I suppose it is hard to hear over the sound of that jacket,” Regina responded, her politician’s smile firmly in place. “How is Mr Rockfort? And dear Brendan?” she added breezily, before the woman could consciously register the comment about her clothing.

“Brendan would be much better if this horrid little woman would give him the pass he deserves! I’m sure you’d agree with me, Ms Mills. The boys have no  _need_  for Texts! This class is a pointless torment for them!”

“I’m not sure I’d agree with you Mrs Rockfort,” Regina said, her eyes glinting a little dangerously. “Henry greatly enjoys his Texts classes.”

“Oh, my dear.” Mrs Rockfort’s face twisted into a parody of commiseration. “Of  _course_  he does. I suppose there’s not much else the poor dear _can_ do.”

Regina bristled and Ms French stepped into the breach.

“Oh no, Henry is a wonderful student! He is so insightful, and he asks  _such_  fascinating questions and makes the most interesting links between his subjects. He really is a pleasure to teach.”

“I’m sure he is,” Mrs Rockfort said, her voice dripping with nastiness. “He must be such a comfort to you, Ms Mills, with all his talents. Reading old books, and I understand he is  _greatly_  enjoying flying broomsticks.” 

With a parting glare, Mrs Rockfort flounced away.

Regina fixed Ms French with a stern look.

“In the future, I’d thank you to not discuss my son in front of other parents.”

“I didn’t mean…I…I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I was a little flustered. It wont happen again.”

The woman looked so despondent, that even as she was turning on her heel to stalk away, Regina felt her heart sink. She paused and turned back.

“Henry was very grateful for all those books on Atlantis and Zinjj you found for him. He thought them fascinating reading. Thank you.”

She could see the Librarian start to brighten, but before they could extend their conversation, Zelena came up to them.

“Regina! Are you frightening poor Belle?”

“Of course not,” Regina sighed. Ms French wasn’t really Zelena’s type, so her sister was here to tease her, not to court the Librarian.

“Are you sure? She looks positively stricken, the poor dear.”

“Ms Mills was just rescuing me from a rather nasty parent,” Ms French said hurriedly.

“Was she now?” Zelena’s grin spread slowly across her face, making the corners of her eyes crinkle. “Mrs Rockfort must have presented a delicious target for her. I’m sorry I missed it.”

Regina glanced at her sister in some surprise. So Zelena hadn’t simply shown up by random chance; she had noticed the parent berating the Librarian and had come over to run interference. Perhaps she’d be ready to take over the running of this school sooner than Regina had thought. 

She looked back at Ms French, who had flushed in embarrassment and was staring at her feet. Regina felt a sudden wash of guilt for calling the young woman out so harshly over talking about Henry. She really should not have allowed the odious Mrs Rockfort to get under her skin so badly. Regina looked away from the young librarian’s flustered face, her brain churning to find something she could say to ease the sudden tension in the air. But then she saw the woman stalking across the room towards them, and all coherent thought fled.

If Regina had not taken note of that aristocratic profile before, she would never have recognised her, not without the bulky athletic gear and big hooded coats. It still took her a few moments to make the connection, and in those moments, she could not stop her eyes roaming from pointy-heeled toe to glossy head. Madam LeFey had chosen to wear icy cobalt blue, a colour that matched her eyes for vibrancy and sharpness. But it was not the colour of her clothing that had grabbed hold of Regina’s attention and refused to let go. 

By one reckoning, Madam LeFey was wearing a dress. But by another, more accurate, reckoning, Henry’s flying instructor had wrapped herself in silk so form-fitting that every stride she made threw the outline of her leading leg into sharp relief, ascending from a shapely knee, along a long lean thigh, to curve at last into a hip and waist that drew the eye unresistingly upwards. And by that point it didn’t even matter that Madam LeFey’s face was made up in delicate, subtle tones that highlighted the sensuousness of her mouth, or that her hair had been left loose to fall in sleek golden waves that just brushed the proud swell of her breasts. 

Regina knew her mouth had gone dry, and her nose had narrowed as her breath drew faster, and that she was obviously staring, but it wasn’t until Zelena stepped up to her shoulder and hissed “She cleans up nicely, doesn’t she?” into her ear that she gulped and shook herself back into some semblance of control. 

Regina had no more recovery time than that before the flying instructor reached their trio, so her voice stuttered a little when she said, “Good evening. You have my son in your advanced class.”

“And I suppose you want to complain about how much I am wasting his time? Keeping him from more important things, like Hexing and Applied Magecraft?”

Regina froze. “What?”

Besides her, Zelena said warningly, “Maleficent.”

“Oh yes,” the dragon said coldly, although it wasn’t clear which of the sisters she was addressing. “I seem to remember Madam Lucas  _urging_  me to be polite tonight.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell her what a _fine_ job you are doing of following orders!” Regina snapped as she strode away.

“Maleficent,” Zelena said again, with a little more heat in her voice. “You did know that was Regina?”

“Regina?”

“Regina Mills.”

“Mills…your…your  _sister?”_

“Mmm. Well, I think you’ve made quite-“

“That’s  _Henry’s_  mother?”

“Uh huh.”

“But I thought she was…with Belle…she looked….Oh fiddlesticks!”

_“Now_  you choose to be polite,” Zelena muttered.

But Maleficent probably didn’t hear her, as she was hurrying after Regina.

She caught up with her out in the still-empty hallway. Regina was pacing up and down, hands on hips, heels beating out a rapid staccato on the stone floor. There was heightened colour in her cheeks, and her lips pressed together in a thin angry line. Her dark eyes blazed with fury when she saw Maleficent draw closer.

Maleficent stiffened her courage and approached her anyway.

“Ms Mills. Please. I am so sorry. I didn’t realise. It looked like you were haranguing Ms French and I..I..”

She broke off under the force of Regina’s glare.

“You what, Madam LeFey? Decided that Ms French needed  _rescuing_  from the evil ex-Queen?”

“I..No. I didn’t know you-“

“Belle French may be a woman of little power. But she is intelligent and resourceful. And capable of fighting her own battles! Or do you think all us humans weak and helpless, and in need of a dragon’s power to save us?”

“That is not what I-“

“A pity you don’t bring some of that protective instinct to your teaching!”

“What do you-“

“Six times Henry has come home injured from your class. Six times, Madam LeFey. You’ve only been teaching him for four weeks!”

“He is brave! Fearless! We do take precautions, but-. Accidents happen, Ms Mills. And scrapes and bruises are to be expected-“

“Not by me! Do you even  _know_ my son? He does not have the same shields-“ She broke off when her voice cracked, but rallied to snarl, “I do not want my son injured because of  _your_  negligence.”

“Ms Mills, I assure you. I am aware of Henry’s…his situation. But he is a flyer! A natural in the air. I will not wrap him in cotton wool! But I will teach him to fly true. I misspoke before, and for that, I am truly sorry. But your son-“

“If he comes home hurt  _one_  more time, Madam LeFey, I’ll have your job.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelena plays peacemaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a short update, because I'm still trying to sort some stuff out. But we do get some Mills sisters' snippy supportiveness.

After Regina had stormed off, Maleficent sighed and returned to the Grand Hall. She found Zelena and Belle talking to the headmistress, Agatha Lucas.

“She let you live then?” Zelena said when Maleficent approached.

“Barely,” Maleficent sighed.

“Did you apologise?” Madam Lucas asked.

“I tried. But she was…she wasn’t in the mood to listen.”

Zelena snorted. “She thought you were making fun of Henry. You’re lucky she let you back in here with your skin intact.”

Maleficent groaned. “She thinks I’m a terrible teacher. That he gets hurt because I don’t take into account he can’t protect himself with shields.”

“She was never very keen on flying,” Zelena said soothingly. “She was more comfortable on a horse than a broom. She’d have forgotten that you can’t really maintain any kind of shield when flying.” 

“I have found that Ms Mills’ anger burns very hot when it comes to Henry. But she is not unfair,” Belle said. She patted Maleficent’s arm gently. “And Henry really is very fond of you. I’m sure this will blow over as soon as she realises it was a misunderstanding.”

“It’ll blow over a lot quicker if you put your apology and an explanation in writing, Madam LeFey,” Agatha Lucas said firmly. 

“Yes, Headmistress,” Maleficent agreed glumly. “If she doesn’t incinerate my letter as soon as she sees it.”

Zelena laughed. “Oh cheer up! You have a secret weapon you know. I’ll go over there later and soothe the wounded beast. Put in a good word or two for you.”

Regina felt the push against the house wards; the touch of magic was familiar, and she lowered the shields around the house.

“Regina?” her sister called out from the front door. 

“Kitchen,” she called back. She continued her insistent chopping of carrots, deftly wielding the sharp blade to produce an even julienne of orange strips. She found the controlled movements calming, but she had ended up with a lot more carrot than they needed for the simple salad that would accompany their evening meal.

When she heard Zelena’s footsteps at the door of the kitchen she said, “I suppose you’re going to tell me I overreacted.”

“A little.”

“She said-“

“She thought you were one of her Year 9 parents. She’d been taking it on the chin from them all night. And then there you were, being all glowering and intimidating at poor Belle, and she just snapped.”

“I was not-!”

_“I_  know that, sister dear. But that’s not what it looked like to Maleficent.”

“Is she always that impulsive?”

“She is protective of those she cares about.” Zelena snagged a fistful of carrots and crunched on them thoughtfully. “You of all people should be sympathetic to that.”

Regina glared at her. “You like her.”

“What’s not to like?” Zelena responded with a lascivious smirk, making Regina laugh.

“Yes, I noticed the dress.”

“And I noticed you noticing the dress.” That earned Zelena a swat on the arm. “There’s nothing wrong with that!” Zelena said in laughing protest. “She makes an impression.” 

Regina sighed and laid the knife down on the counter.

“Why did Agatha think it necessary to hire a dragon?”

Zelena bristled. “Really, Regina?”

“I’ve had twelve calls since I got home,” Regina continued. “And there’s at least as many missives as that waiting on the crystal. All of them complaining about the-“ she waved her hands in a vaguely threatening fashion - “ _'ill-mannered dragon who should never have made it past the vetting stage.’_ ”

Zelena snorted. “Why are they coming to you? You’re not even on the Board of Governors.”

“I suppose they think the Mayoral chains carry some weight with Madam Lucas?” Regina responded with a wry smile. “But really Zelena. What was she thinking? I can’t imagine how Madam LeFey is one of Agatha’s misfits.”

“Not so much of the ‘misfits’, please,” Zelena said drily.

“Sorry,” Regina said, slightly shamefaced. “I didn’t mean it that way. But - Agatha has left herself open to a lot of angry parents. What is going on here, Zelena?”

Zelena leaned back against the counter and fixed her sister with a serious look.

“You know how dragons are born. The whole egg thing.”

“Yes, Zelena. I paid attention in Extra-Human Anatomies.”

“Well then, you’ll know what a dragon looks like when she first emerges from the egg.”

“Zelena-“

“Scaly and sharp teeth with those cute little wings. The ability to shift to human form doesn’t develop until later.”

“You’d better get to the point before Henry’s bedtime.”

“Well, when Maleficent’s egg hatched - she was not a little baby dragon. She was a baby human.”

“What?”

“Imagine it, Regina. A nest up in the mountains, dragon egg cracks open, out pops this tiny little squalling pink creature. Soft and squishy.”

“Zelena, you’re making no sense. That’s…that’s. Oh.”

“You really did pay attention in Anatomies. What’re the odds? One in a million?”

“Not quite as high as that,” Regina said. “But still, incredibly rare. So her fixed form is human and she shifts into the dragon?”

“That’s how I understand it.”

“How did she survive?”

“She got lucky. Her dam was rather forward thinking. Instead of leaving her up on the crag for the weather and wolves to get her, she brought her to the fairies.”

“Maleficent was raised by fairies?!”

“Until she was twelve, I believe. Then she ran away and raised herself the rest of the way.”

“LeFey,” Regina breathed. “I wondered about that name. I thought she was just trying to fit in to human society and had missed the mark.”

“Well spotted,” Zelena said softly. “That’s what Agatha noticed too. When she met her, Maleficent was hiring herself out as muscle, out on the borderlands. She said she liked the smell of the old wolf. So she told her the whole story.”

“And of course Agatha offered her a job on the spot.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No,” Regina muttered. “Well, is this public knowledge?”

“Not really. Maleficent’s rather private. Proud old dragon and all that.”

“I see.” 

Regina brushed her hands over her apron, smoothing the material; her eyes were thoughtful, her mouth firm. Zelena watched her in silence, and caught the minute nod seconds before Regina said, “I’ll just go reply to those missives and calls. Then we’ll have dinner. Are you staying?”

“Umm. No. Not tonight. Thanks.”

Regina watched the blush colour her sister’s face and raised an eyebrow in surprise. It wasn’t like Zelena to be so coy about her companions. 

“Who is she?”

“What? No! It’s not like that. I’m going to a reading.”

“A reading?”

“Belle French is reading some of her new work, and I said I’d go. Show support sort of thing. Agatha is busy.”

“Oh Zelena,” she grinned. “It is all right you know, to admit you like poetry.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maleficent and Regina make up; Henry has lots of questions; Zelena does not try very hard to be a protective big sister

The dragon’s secret did not, of course, stay secret very long. But by the time anyone in the school office realised the story had got out, it was too late for Madam Lucas to do any damage control, or bring any force to bear against whoever it was had released the information. 

The story spread, first passed along in hushed conversations and broadly worded missives, but soon it was being openly discussed in the chocolate houses and spas across town. The words ‘freak of nature’ and ‘monstrosity’ were a common theme in these discussions.

Maleficent weathered this storm, coming to school every day and instructing her classes as though nothing had changed; she put them through their paces, executing solo drills as well as basic formations; she still set them readings and essays (the history of the broom through the ages was a fascinating one, filled with stories of dashing escapades and daring flights, both in peacetime and war); she planned field trips into faraway forests to find ancient trees so they could recreate some famous brooms of old. 

Some students did sneer and curl their lips disdainfully when they said her name, but a few minutes in quiet conversation with their teacher left them quaking-kneed and respectful again.

One afternoon, after her advanced class had cleared the field, she noticed Henry Mills sitting and reading on the sidelines.

“Haven’t you got a home to go to, Henry?” 

He looked up from his book and smiled.

“My mum’s in a meeting. With Madam Lucas and some parents.”

“Ah.”

“We’ll go home when she’s done.”

“Want some company, while you wait? Otherwise I’ll have to ask you to leave - you know students aren’t allowed on the fields without a teacher.”

He nodded. “Please? If you don’t mind?”

Maleficent shrugged gently and sat down.

“I’m in no hurry. What are you reading?”

“Oh. Umm. It’s a textbook on..er..a book on dragons.”

“Ohh. Reading up on hatchling abnormalities?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. There is no shame in seeking knowledge.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Depends on what the question is, Henry.”

“Does it make you sad?”

“What?”

“Being…contraforma.” He stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word.

“Is that what your book calls it?”

Henry nodded.

“I am a dragon, Henry. And that is nothing to be sad about.”

“But you don’t  _look_  like a dragon.”

“It does not matter what I look like. That is what I am. I feel where my wings are ready to sprout from my back, my scales press up against my skin, my nails are a heartbeat away from being talons.”

“Oh.”

“I am a dragon. Just because others of my kind spend most of their time in the other form - the form most people think of when they think of dragons - and I look more like you…that does not make me any less a dragon.”

“I don’t think everyone sees it that way,” Henry said. 

“That is not my concern.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? All those mean things they’re saying about you.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

“It bothers me too. Sometimes. It bothered me a lot more when I was younger. But then I learned to spit fire, and things didn’t seem so bad after that.”

Henry laughed. “I wish I could do that!”

“You fly better than half your class, Henry.”

“Yeah. But flying’s kind of dumb.”

_“Excuse_  me?”

“No! I don’t mean it like that! I mean …  _other_  people think it’s kind of dumb.”

“I don’t understand that at all. There is nothing in the world better than flying.”

“Using broomsticks … I guess that’s the problem. All my friends can transport wherever they want. I have to wait for Mum and the car. She says I can get my own broom soon - if I do well in this class. Then it’ll be easier. And when I’m older, I can learn to drive. But transporting would be so much quicker. No one uses brooms anymore. Not unless they are really-”

 He broke off.

“Really dumb?” Maleficent hazarded.

Henry nodded glumly.

“And you’re smart.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Smart people are supposed to be really powerful, you know? Look at my Mum and Aunt Zelena.”

“Power is not directly linked to intelligence, Henry.”

“Mum says that. She says if that were the case, half the people on the Council wouldn’t be able to drum up enough power between them to tie a shoe.”

Maleficent could not keep herself from laughing, and Henry grinned at her.

“Your mother has a point, Henry,” she said after a moment, her eyes still shining with mirth. “Power is not everything. You have much more to offer this world than a little magic.”

He bent over so he could stare at his feet, scuffing his shoes along the grass.

“Thanks,” he said in a small voice.

Maleficent clasped his shoulder gently.

“You will see that in time, Henry.”

He looked up.

“Thank you,” he said. “For talking to me. And answering my questions. Mum’s good at answering questions, but I know not everyone likes it.”

That sounded like a summary of a lesson that had been learned the hard way, and Maleficent had to smile at Henry’s earnest little face.

“You’re welcome.”

She was about to ask if she could see his book, curious to discover for herself what human science had to say about her. But then she noticed the green-clad figure standing at the top of the stairs that led up to the main school building; she was waving, beckoning them over to her.

“Your Aunt Zelena wants you, I think.”

Henry turned and waved back at his aunt.

“Mum must be done with her meeting.”

Maleficent got to her feet. 

“Come along then, young man.”

She walked with him, keeping pace with his shorter steps as they climbed up the stairs.

“Your mum’ll be ready soon Harry,” Zelena said as soon as they drew close enough to hear her. “Go and fetch your things. I suspect she’ll be eager to leave as soon as she’s done.”

Maleficent waited until Henry had run off before asking “Turbulent meeting?”

Zelena sighed.

“It won’t be a secret for very long. This meeting was about you.”

“I suspected as much. So, is my head for the block?”

“No. I don’t think so. Agatha and Regina were very firm.”

_“Regina_  was?” Maleficent asked, the shock clear in her voice.

“Hmm. Why does that surprise you?”

“Why would it  _not_  surprise me? After what happened. I-“

She broke off and turned from Zelena towards the glass doors behind her. 

A small group of people were walking through the doors. Agatha Lucas and Regina were side by side, Regina looking particularly Mayoral in a black waistcoat and crisp white shirt, her hair loose but sleek. Four other parents, all members of the Board of Governors, were close on their heels. The group stopped several feet away from where Maleficent and Zelena stood; they talked in lowered voices. It was obvious from their body language that they were in the middle of an argument. One of the parents caught sight of Maleficent and Zelena, frowned, then turned back to Madam Lucas; his fist thumped into his open palm as he hissed something no-doubt venomous at her.

Maleficent stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Zelena asked.

“I wonder if they know just how good a dragon’s hearing is,” Maleficent said.

Zelena looked over at the angry group.

“You can hear them?”

“Hmm. It’s nothing I’ve not heard before.” She sounded dismissive, as though the words had not made any impact on her.

But then Regina started speaking. Her voice was no louder than before, and the only change in her stance was to take half a step forward and lean towards the man who had spoken, her chin jutting upwards in challenge.

Maleficent stared, her mouth falling slightly open in surprise.

“What?” Zelena demanded, exasperated, wishing she had a dragon’s hearing. Regina looked as though she was saying something particularly incendiary, and Zelena was frustrated to be missing it.

Maleficent shook her head. She was smiling now, thoughtful and soft.

“She fights like a dragon. Dive in talons first and burn everything before you.”

“That does sound like her,” Zelena admitted. “At least, ever since Henry was born. She was a lot easier to tease when we were children.”

Maleficent grinned. “Good for her.”

They made no secret of watching the exchange between Regina and the group of Governors, who grew more cowed by the moment. By the time she was finished, Regina’s jaw was tight, her teeth partially bared, her eyes narrowed and snapping. Agatha Lucas stood at her back, watching over her, but offering no interference or objection as Regina quite obviously ripped into the now silent, fearful-looking, parents.

With a curt nod, Regina stepped back and allowed them to transport away.

Regina exchanged a few more words with Madam Lucas, then stalked over to Zelena and Maleficent.

“Where’s Henry?”

“Fetching his things. That looked like fun.”

Regina snarled.

“Idiots.”

“You set them right though?”

Regina sighed. “We’ll see.”

She seemed to notice Maleficent for the first time.

“Madam LeFey. I received your letter. Thank you.” 

“Oh. Good. And in case I did not state it clearly enough in writing, I truly am very-“

“Please. Let’s not harp on it any more. It was a misunderstanding. I accept that. I may have…overreacted…a little.”

Zelena snorted and Regina and Maleficent both glared at her.

“At any rate. I wanted to tell you, your job is safe. I won’t be seeking your termination. That is, unless you do something to warrant firing, of course.”

“Understood,” Maleficent said with a brief, sardonic smile. “I shall, in that case, restrain any impulse to transform certain members of the Board of Governors into goats and drop them into a troll pit.”

Regina’s eyebrow arched and her eyes widened before she imposed control over her reactions again.

“Yes. Well. That would be an unfortunate impulse. If an understandable one. So, yes. Don’t do that.”

Maleficent's mouth curled into a teasing grin, leaving a gleeful glint in her eyes; Regina's gaze lingered on her a moment too long for politeness before she abruptly turned to Zelena.

“Should we expect you for dinner?”

“Whose turn is it?”

“Henry's. He’s roasting a chicken.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Around 7:30 then?”

“Perfect.”

“Good evening, Madam LeFey. Zelena, please let Henry know I’m waiting for him at the car.”

With curt farewell nods at both women, Regina walked away, striding along the balcony towards the car park beyond the playing fields.

Maleficent watched her go.

Zelena held her tongue for a handful of seconds, then, 

“Really Maleficent. Are you going to ogle her the _entire_ afternoon?”

“I am not ogling! But, you have to admit, she is an attractive woman.”

“She is my sister!”

“And are you now going to play the protective big sister, and tell me my intentions had better be honourable?”

“No. I am going to ask you if you’re brave enough to ask her out.”

“Zelena! She is the parent of one of my students!”

“That’s no deterrent. I'm sure it wouldn't stop me.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Zelena. But my intentions  _are_  honourable.”

“Oh… _fiddlesticks.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is apparently no such thing as a posting schedule for this fic. Stuff will go up as and when I think it is passable for reading, or when I get too impatient to keep hacking away at it. :) That said, the next update will deffo take longer to show up than this one, because I'm away for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry gets a bit of a history lesson

The advanced flyers were gathered around their instructor; the lesson debrief had ended a few minutes ago, but Madam LeFey was in a chatty mood, and was recounting some adventures from her time on the borderlands. As it progressed, the story telling session attracted other students, including those not in the advanced flying class. Henry sat between two of these - friends from his Year, Riggs and Alan.

The boys and girls looked suitably awed as the tale unfolded - an exciting recounting of how Maleficent had flown through a nasty electrical storm, with a harpoon dart wedged in her left shoulder, to bring an injured comrade to safety.

“That’s why stamina is so important, my little dragonets,” Maleficent finished with a mock-stern glare at her advanced flyers. “So no more whining when I make you run laps!”

However, the students seemed to have taken a different lesson from her story. 

“I would _love_ to see you fly, Madam LeFey," Riggs said in an enraptured voice. 

“I’m up on the broom all the time,” Maleficent responded. 

“No. I mean … as a _dragon.”_

Henry smacked Riggs' arm. 

“She _is_ a dragon.”

“Yes, yes. I know.” Riggs was undaunted. “But wouldn’t you love to be up there with a _dragon_ dragon? Like…the wings and the fire and-“

“Ooh, yes!” several other voices now piped up.

“That’d be awesome!”

“The best!”

“Would you go dragon for us, Madam LeFey?” Alan asked. “Please?”

“Go dragon?” Maleficent enunciated carefully. “What is-”

“It means to transform,” Henry told her quietly.

“‘go dragon’,” Maleficent repeated softly. “Hmm. I can see why you’d say it that way. But - no, I can’t.”

“You can’t transform?” a concerned student asked.

“It’s against the law for me to transform,” Maleficent clarified. “Within the city limits, anyway.”

“What?”

“But that’s dumb.”

“Why?”

Maleficent shrugged. “It’s an old law. Older than me even,” she grinned. “So no, I cannot ‘go dragon’ for you.”

“But that’s so unfair,” Riggs pouted.

“Life rarely is anything but,” Maleficent said drily. 

She caught sight of Regina crossing the field, obviously looking for Henry.

“Ah, and we’ve gone over time again!” Maleficent said, “Off home with you lot. Henry - are you at your grandmother’s tonight? You’d best go and get changed then!”

As the other students transported away, Henry and his two friends ran towards the school buildings, waving to Regina as they went by. 

Regina slowed her approach, but Maleficent stood and waited, not transporting away.

“Sorry,” she said, when Regina had reached her. “Class went long, again.”

“Hmm. Were you teaching, or spinning a yarn?” Regina asked sardonically. “I hear the best stories after one of these classes.”

“‘Yarn spinning’ is just another form of teaching,” Maleficent countered, her eyes sparkling with challenge.

“And what did he learn today? Another borderlands ditty with such _colourful_ vocabulary?”

“Those weren’t rude words,” Maleficent said, a grin spreading over her face to match the sparkle in her eyes. “They just sound rude. There’s a difference. Your ogre must be rusty.”

“My ogre is non-existent!” Regina said, with a wry laugh. “I hardly get to spend long enough in their presence to learn any of their language.”

“It sounds rougher than it is,” Maleficent promised. “Sometimes I wonder if-“ she broke off with a sigh. “I wish we understood them better. Perhaps they'd fight us less.”

“Every expedition we send to them-“

“Is eaten. I know. I may be over optimistic about this.”

“Perhaps,” Regina said drily. “If there is a way to make peace, I’m sure the boffins at the Palace will discover it eventually.”

“I suppose,” Maleficent said glumly, her response showing just how much faith she had in the Royal researchers. “Though I think they would rather spend their time finding new ways to destroy ogres, rather than talk to them.”

“Queen Snow may have different ideas,” Regina said in neutral tones. “She was a very reconciliatory child.”

“She’s keen on mending fences?”

“Mending them? No. Destroying them is more likely. I don’t think Snow sees the point of fences. They get in the way of everybody being one big happy family.”

The neutral tones had taken on an icy edge, and Maleficent shifted closer, instinctively wanting to offer Regina comfort. But then Regina moved, drawing back into herself, and Maleficent stopped. She kept her attention on Regina, her eyes soft and careful; but Regina had looked away, wrapping her arms around her midriff as though she were suddenly cold.

 

 

Henry came rushing back out, his shirt half untucked and his hair still damp from a hurried shower. Regina made an obvious effort to shake herself out of the closed off stance she had taken, and by the time Henry reached her, his mother was back to a level of cheerfulness. Regina’s smile was fond, if a little exasperated, as she patted her son’s hair into a perfunctory tidiness. She knew it was pointless to have him tuck his shirt in now; they had a long drive ahead of them, and Henry had a hard time sitting still. She’d give him a once over and be sure he neatened up when they arrived at Cora’s house.

They said brief farewells to Madam LeFey, and made their way to the parking lot, where Regina’s car waited. Cora lived in the capital, so she could be close to all the seats of power. This meant that getting to the weekly family dinners required a two hour journey. 

It may have been more of a chore if Regina’s car had not been such a pleasure to drive. She’d had it custom designed, so it was the only one of its kind. There were generally two kinds of cars to be found on the kingdom’s roads - the mass transporters, large and relatively comfortable when compared to a broomstick, with racks on the roof to carry extra luggage. These cars were used by people who had a little money to spare, but not enough magic to transport long distances; the other types of cars were owned mostly by eccentric wealthy individuals, and tended to be sleek and beautiful and highly impractical, consuming vast quantities of magic just to travel a few hundred metres. 

Regina had spent some time planning her car, knowing that ultimately it would be Henry who would need it most. So the boffins Regina employed had made it efficient; it was responsive to its steering system and able to go for hours on relatively small amounts of magic. It was comfortable too, with soft leather seats, and glass windows that would darken when the sun got too bright, and an interior that automatically cooled or warmed as needed. 

The exterior however was made very much to Regina’s tastes; a gleaming black, with silver and red highlights along the grille and wheelwalls, its long blunt nose and dramatically curved wheel guards reflected its speed and strength. There was enough boot space for luggage, including a school-issued broom and whatever projects Henry needed to bring with him, and enough seating space for Zelena to ride along with them occasionally, sprawled out in the back seat while she complained about the vibrations of the engine and the feeling of springs stabbing into her back.

Henry clambered into the passenger seat and heaved his bag into the back, retaining a leather bound journal and a quill pen. Regina smiled when she saw these - Henry’s love of all things ancient had them spending their weekends searching through dusty shops in small villages for bits and pieces of treasure, but she hadn’t seen this book before.

“Homework?” she asked as she watched Henry turn to a fresh page.

“Journal keeping. For Ms French. We’re reading Rowan the Recorder’s journals, and practicing keeping our own.”

“Looks like you had a busy day,” Regina smiled as she glanced briefly away from the road to see the neat lines of Henry’s handwriting. His penmanship had taken a long time to develop; while his peers had been learning how to control pencils with both their magic and their little hands, Henry had only been writing by hand. The extra practice showed now in the flowing ease of his script. He could write for hours without complaining of cramps or tiredness.

As Regina drove, Henry filled her in on his day. How there was a new student in school, who was so gifted in music, she had been able to control three instruments at the same time. His lunch had been bright green, because Riggs had been hurrying through his alchemy homework and had dropped a potion into their mashed potatoes. Henry had hoped eating the potatoes would have turned his tongue a bright green too, but disappointingly, it remained stubbornly pink. 

He’d got half an hour of detention for showing his music teacher, Miss Fontaine, just how pink his tongue was. Aunt Zelena had laughed uproariously when she’d received the note from the teacher, but had still made him serve the detention. Miss Fontaine had been a good sport about it in the end, and had assigned him to help her test out a pile of new instruments she had ordered for a percussion class; he had stayed much longer than the required half hour, because thumping on the various drums had been so much fun. 

They’d started practicing formation flying, and Madame LeFey had shown them how to use whistle calls to communicate with each other. He was planning to teach the system to Alan and Riggs so they could have secret conversations during class-no not during class, but only during lunch and free periods, really Mum. Madam LeFey had told them this really cool story after class and did you know that dragons could still fly even with a giant arrow in their shoulder?

When his mother had agreed that, yes Madam LeFey was most impressive and very strong, Henry asked,

“Mum, did you know there’s a law that makes dragons not transform?”

“Dragons are required to maintain their human form within town limits,” Regina corrected. “Is that the one you mean?”

“Yeah. It’s a silly kinda law to have, huh?”

“It’s an old law, darling. Hundreds of years old.”

“But why shouldn't dragons be allowed to transform?”

“You’ve not learned about this yet. I’m sure Ms French will do a better job of explaining it. But, a long time ago, a prince and princess argued over who should rule the kingdom. And they each had people who supported them. Neither of them was very nice, and neither of them would have made a very good ruler, if we’re being honest about it. But the princess travelled a lot, and she knew a secret no one else did. See, this was so long ago, it was before we knew that dragons _could_ transform. We didn’t realise they could look like humans. For some reason, the dragons quite liked this princess, and agreed to help her.”

“They fought for her?”

“They did. But more importantly, they would sneak into towns, in human form, and then when they were right in the heart of things, they’d change back into dragon form.”

“That’s really sneaky! They made good spies, huh?”

“Indeed. And they caused a lot of damage, until the prince’s warlocks worked out what was going on. Then they were able to form counter spells to figure out who was a dragon, and create weapons to fight them off.”

“Did the princess win?”

“She didn’t,” Regina said, sounding a little disappointed. “Once her brother was able to fight back against the dragons, she lost their support, and some of her other allies deserted her too. So the prince was able to take the throne. One of the first laws he passed was the ban against dragons transforming in towns.”

“But - they had counter spells and all the weapons and stuff.”

“Yes. But he thought it showed that he was being strong against the dragon menace. I did say he wasn’t a very good ruler. He was incredibly paranoid for the rest of his reign; he only ruled for about a year before someone poisoned him in his sleep.”

Henry sighed in satisfaction, captivated by this tale of conspiracy and betrayal. But then he frowned.

“You are going to end this law, right?”

Regina shook her head. “Oh, I can’t do that, Henry. I’m not the King.”

“But, Mum! It’s not _fair_.”

“Is that what Madam LeFey says?”

“No. _She_ wasn’t complaining about it. But Riggsy did - he wanted to see her fly, in dragon form.”

Regina’s eyes widened in amused surprise. “If young Riggs wants to see a dragon form up close, he should go hiking in the crags.“

“Mum,” Henry said in an annoyed little voice. “That’s not the point. Madam LeFey is a dragon. She should be able to..to _be_ a dragon, if she wants. Why shouldn’t she be able to transform? No one tells Madam Lucas she can’t!”

“That is a very good point, Henry,” Regina said with a broad smile. “Very logical.”

“So, you’ll change the law then?”

“No Henry, really. I can’t. I’m just the Mayor. I don’t have that kind of power.”

Henry stared at her, disbelieving. “You can’t do anything?”

_“I_ can’t change the law across the kingdom. But the Storybrooke Council - they could strike the law from our books, here in this town. If someone brought a petition before them, and they voted for it.”

“Okay, so you’re going to make a petition-“

“Oh no. I’m the Mayor. I can’t bring-“

“Mum! I can! I can bring a petition!”

“You can’t, darling. You need to be a little older.”

“Mum!”

“But Madam Lucas can.”

“And you’re going to talk to her-“

“Don’t need to. She brought the petition to me last week.”

“Mum!” There was exasperation but also happiness in his face as his mother grinned, her smile wide and her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“My darling boy, you should know better than to doubt your Mother.”

She spared a glance at him, and seeing that he still looked a little sulky, she said earnestly, “I am very proud of you, Henry. Not many people would care about something like this old law. But you’re right; it _is_ a silly law, and it is very unfair, and we are going to try to do something about it.”

Henry nodded, his faith in the balance of the world restored; his mother may not be able to just snap her fingers and make things be the way they should, but she was on the case now. She’d find a way. He pulled his journal closer, balancing it on his knees, and started sketching. He was drawing the advanced flying class; he and all his friends were on their brooms, in tight formation. He was so happy with the image, he gave them an audience; first, Madam LeFey, standing on the ground, looking pleased. Then his Mum, standing next to her. Perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal and Henry visit the Infirmary

If she'd been less panicked, Regina may have spent the time she hurried along the corridor reflecting that in Henry's seven years at Madam Lucas's, she had never had to rush around the school as much as she had done since Henry had taken up flying.

But she was too focused on getting to the Infirmary to make wry jokes.

Madam Lucas was standing at the doorway, waiting for her. She raised her hands in a placating motion.

"He's fine, Regina. He's fine."

"Where is he?"

"With Mr. Clark. Zelena is there too. He's fine. Take a breath."

The only reason Regina did as she was told was because she didn't want Henry frightened by her own panic.

Madam Lucas opened the door, and Regina hurried through.

Zelena and the nurse were also in the room, standing on either side of Henry, but her focus was only for her son.

He was on the bed, lying on top of the white covers, propped up against a mound of pillows. His shirt had been neatly cut away from his body, revealing his left side. His arm was cradled in a sling across his chest, and Regina felt the panic grip at her heart again when she saw the state his shoulder was in.

His skin was an angry red, dotted with clusters of seeping white pustules. The eruption of sores spread over his left shoulder, stopping just under his collarbone. 

"What happened?"

"It was an accident." 

It was Zelena who had spoken, and Regina looked at her as she strode to Henry's side.

"How?"

"It's all right, Mum. Really. Some Year 10s were fooling around, and they didn't notice me."

"He got caught by a couple of hexes," Mr Clark, the nurse, said. "It is not as bad as it looks."

"It looks pretty bad!" Regina snarled. 

She'd reached Henry now, and she extended a gentle hand to brush against his forehead and curve along his cheek. 

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It itches a bit. But that's it."

"It's not contagious either," Zelena said. "I checked."

Regina nodded absentmindedly, and leaned closer to examine Henry's shoulder. 

"Do you know what hex this was?"

"You know what teenagers are like," Mr Clark said in the long-suffering voice of a man who has seen far too many things he wished he hadn't. "They were trying to cover each other in pimples and warts."

Regina frowned but before her anger could build up to a full head, Zelena hurriedly said, "The Year 10s have just started Hexes. A group of them were messing about, testing what they'd learned in class. Henry got caught in the cross-fire. This wasn't targeted, Regina."

"I'm okay, Mum. Really."

Regina subsided, but only a little. 

"Where are they?"

"We sent them home. Agatha and I will work out what to do with them tomorrow."

"And Henry? Can I take him home? Or does he need to be-"

"Oh he's fine, Ms Mills. I've already cast the counter hex. He'll be all clear in a couple of hours. You can take him home now, if you like."

"You let him cast a hex?" Regina asked her son.

"Yeah," he looked up at her a little hesitantly. "I figured I'd been hurt by magic, so it was okay to get some magic to fix me?"

Regina beamed at him. 

"That's a very good way to think about it, darling."

She ruffled his hair - shorter now, but still long enough for her fingers to get lost in the dark strands - and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Shall we get your things and go home?"

"Oh, but I don't know about Madam LeFey yet."

"Madam LeFey? What about her?"

"She saved me, Mum!"

"Saved you? Were you in her class when this happened?"

"Regina-"

"I was just walking across the field. I didn't see what was happening behind me. She got between me and the hexes, Mum. She saved me!"

Regina gave Zelena a startled look.

Zelena nodded. 

"She took the worst of it."

"But no one will tell me how she is! I'm worried she's really hurt, Mum."

"I don't know either," Zelena said. "I've been with Henry," she added, looking at Regina. "I'm sure she's fine."

Regina saw the flicker of doubt despite Zelena's effort to hide it.

"I'll go check on her, shall I?" Regina said to Henry, giving him a comforting smile. "If you don't mind waiting here a little while longer?"

"Yes, please, Mum. Will you?"

"I'll get your things together, Harry. Then you'll be ready as soon as your mum gets back."

Leaving Zelena to marshall and organise whatever was necessary to get Henry released from the Infirmary, Regina went back out into the corridor. Madam Lucas was still there, leaning tiredly against the wall. She straightened up when she saw Regina.

"Where is Madam LeFey?" Regina asked.

"Ms Mills-"

"Henry tells me she got between him and the hexes. Where is she, Agatha?"

"I'm waiting to hear how she is. Dr Whale is still working on her."

"Whale?" If Maleficent had needed a doctor, and not just a nurse as Henry had, then her injuries must have been far more serious than his.

"I can't say more than that, Regina. You know that. It's not my place to share-"

"Please, Agatha. Henry is very concerned. Is she at least conscious?"

Agatha Lucas heaved a tired breath.

"I'll go and check, shall I? And while I'm there, I'll ask if she's up to visitors."

"Oh. Yes. Thank you, Agatha. I'm sure Henry will-"

"I doubt he'd be allowed in, Regina. Give me a moment." 

Regina's concern grew as she watched the headmistress walk down the corridor and enter another of the sick rooms. She paced nervously as she waited for her to return. 

It took a couple of minutes, but Agatha Lucas had a slight smile on her face when she re-emerged; Regina felt some of the tension drain out of her.

"She'll see you," Agatha said, beckoning Regina to enter the room.

Regina stepped hesitantly through the door. This room was much like Henry's - bright white light, cold metal furniture, a bed covered in pristine white sheets. Dr Whale had his back to her, working at one of the steel tables. Maleficent was on the bed, above the covers, dressed in a loose cotton shift that left her arms and her legs below the knee bare.

Regina gasped when she saw her; she could not prevent the look of horror that crossed her face.

Henry's skin looked bad, but in comparison to this, he had only had a light outbreak of pimples. Maleficent's entire body was a mass of white, oozing blisters. Some were tiny - about the size of a pin head, others were as large as a fingernail. The only parts of her skin that were not covered with pus-filled boils had sprouted dark bulbous warts. The warts littered her body, like malevolently formed islands in a sea of sickly white.

Regina froze two steps into the room, the skin over her entire body crawling with revulsion.

"Regina," Maleficent said, softly but with a commanding tone. Hardly anyone spoke to Regina like this, and it startled her enough that she stopped her helpless horror-filled staring at Maleficent's body and looked her in the eye instead. "How is Henry?"

"His shoulder looks like your nose." Regina's response was honest if unthinking.

Maleficent laughed. "He's doing all right then?"

Regina nodded, swallowed down the revulsion, and moved closer.

"What are they _teaching_  Year 10 this year?! How are you- Oh Pan's beard - you saved Henry from _this?!”_

"No, no. Not at all. I am-"

"Is this wise, Madam LeFey?" Whale interrupted. "We talked about the importance of secrecy in this matter."

"I greatly doubt Mayor Mills is going to gossip to all and sundry about my condition."

"What condition?" Regina demanded, adding with a glare at the doctor, "And of  _course_ I won't tell anyone anything!"

"Turns out I'm allergic," Maleficent said.

"This is an allergic reaction?!"

Maleficent nodded. "To hexes. Specifically, pimple and warts hexes." She sighed. "I could have happily gone my entire life not knowing that."

"Why does it have to be kept secret?" Regina asked, confused.

Maleficent grinned.

"Henry is a good boy. A credit to his upbringing. But not everyone is like him."

"I don't see-"

"Imagine if...oh, say Zelena...had found out something like this about one of _her_  teachers, when she was a student."

Realisation dawned. "Ah."

"I prefer not to be on the receiving end of any pranks."

Regina nodded. “Yes, of course."

"Dragons don't do well with pranks."

"I imagine not."

"We're a rather cut and dried species. What you see is what you get."

"What I see right now is something that looks incredibly uncomfortable."

Maleficent smiled again. Regina found the other woman's even tone and dry sense of humour surprisingly calming. She was slowly growing able to ignore the suppurating mess that was Maleficent's body. The skin on the back of her scalp still felt as though a thousand ants were crawling across her head, but she was able to look at Maleficent without cringing now, and her eyes did not stray to stare with horrified fascination at the eruption of warts and boils.

"It looks worse than it feels," Maleficent assured her.

Dr Whale snorted, and Regina turned towards him.

 _"Is_  she okay?"

"She is now. Thanks to my quick thinking. But it was touch and go for a while. This sort of reaction is nothing to be taken too lightly. She's lucky she had such an experienced doctor on hand to treat her." 

Maleficent rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. I'll be back at work tomorrow. You can tell Henry that I'll expect all his homework done."

"He'll be glad to hear it. He was worried about you."

"I'm sorry I can't let him in here. I don't want to frighten him. Or have him feel guilty."

"I haven't even said thank you for what you did!"

"There's no need, Ms Mills."

"This wasn't...you didn't do this...because of what I said, did you? About being negligent."

Maleficent sighed. "There's the guilt I was afraid of. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ms Mills, and assume that you aren't trying to insult me."

"Of course not!"

"Oh good. I'm not wrong then, to think that you know I would have done this for _any_  child. Not just yours."

"It wasn't just any child on that field, Madam LeFey. It was my son. And I am doing a terrible job of saying thank you."

"You're doing a great job of tiring her out though." The doctor sounded irritated.

"Whale-"

"You may be the Mayor. But I'm the Doctor. And in here, I outrank you. Now, Doctor's orders. Let the poor woman rest."

Regina would have argued, but she noticed Maleficent's eyes drooping shut (even her eyelids were covered in tiny white dots, small enough that Regina could tell that Maleficent's skin under the boils was mottled red and purple).

"How can you be so sure she is all right?" she demanded of Whale, re-focusing her guilt and revulsion into frustrated ire.

"Because she already looks so much better than when they brought her in here!"

Regina subsided, reluctant to even contemplate the state Maleficent had been in before she'd received medical intervention.

“All right," she said raising a placating hand, “All right. I'm going. I wish you a speedy recovery, Madam LeFey."

"I'm serious about that homework," Maleficent slurred in response. "Back to fighting fit tomorrow. Not going to let a few boils stop me."

"I'll be sure to let Henry know," Regina murmured as she left the room.

Henry was sitting up in bed, leaning into Zelena's side as they went through all the items she'd gathered up for him - his backpack and books and various flying gear. 

"How is she?" he asked as soon as he saw his mother return.

Zelena said nothing, but she watched Regina's face carefully for the truth behind her words. She relaxed when it was obvious that Regina was not overly sugarcoating things for Henry.

"She's fine. A bit uncomfortable, but fine. She asked me to tell you that she'll be at work tomorrow. So you'd better have your homework done."

Henry had brightened at his mother's first words, but then slumped by the end; his lip curled disappointedly.

"Did she really say that?"

"She did," Regina nodded, struggling to keep the amusement out of her eyes. She didn't want Henry to think she was joking and so _not_  do his homework."

"Aww."

"Indeed. So we'd best get you home, young man. Make sure you get that essay finished."

"Yes, Mum," he sighed and hopped off the bed. 

Regina noticed that his shoulder was already looking less angry - his skin was regaining its natural colouring, and several of the smaller boils and pustules were drying up and looked less alarming. She slipped an arm around his good shoulder and hugged him tightly to her side. She found herself suddenly lightheaded with relief, and pressed her lips to his forehead; it wasn't so much a kiss as a desperate need to be connected to her child, to inhale his scent and be sure it was healthy, untainted by the festering odour of pus or the dark stain of an invasive hex.

He returned her hug, awkwardly one-handed in his position. 

"I'm fine, Mum. Let's go home, okay?"

She allowed herself one shuddering breath, and that was the final show of weakness for the night.

"Yes, darling. Do you have everything?"

He nodded.

"Zelena-" she stopped. 

Her sister was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs. The heels of her shoes scraped lightly against the tiled floor. She was watching the pair of them with a faint smile on her face that made her look wistful and a little sad.

"Thank you," Regina finished, although that had not at all been what she had first intended to say.

"For what?"

"Being here for him. For me."

Zelena shrugged.

"Family, right?" Her smile broadened. "I'm glad he's okay, Regina. Now, take your son home. So I can take myself to a tavern."

"You won't come round for dinner?"

"Tempting, but no. Thank you. I am going to find someplace very bright and very loud that serves drinks in very large buckets."

She hopped off the bed, hugged her sister, ruffled her nephew's hair, and disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

"Is Aunt Zelena okay?"

"I don't know, Henry. You know she'll tell us about it, when she's ready."

"Yeah. Umm. Mum?"

"Yes dear?"

"Can we have steak soup for dinner?"

It made sense that he'd want his favourite comfort food on a night like this, so Regina nodded. 

"Of course darling."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you've been hexed into the Infirmary, some comfort food is just what you need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a mini-update, an amuse bouche if you will, before we get some more of Mal and Regina bonding.

Even though it was just the two of them, they ate dinner at the formal table, the one they saved for special occasions. Henry got to set the table with the good china and the best silver, all the pieces so delicate and fine it should have been incongruous to use them to eat a rustic beef soup. But everything was just as it should be. The bread was warm and crusty, the spices and vegetables balancing the meat's heartiness with depth and complexity.

Henry hummed his approval at the first mouthful, and Regina smiled.

They spoke companionably as they ate; his homework was done; he'd talked to his friends on the crystal; the Year 10 students who had been tossing hexes around had written long missives of apology - unprompted, which eased her displeasure with them a little. 

As Henry was sopping up the last of his soup with a bit of bread, his sigh of contentment was cut short. He frowned, and Regina leaned forward.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"Do you think Madam LeFey is okay?"

"I'm sure she's fine."

"Do you think she's got some soup to eat?"

"Henry-"

"Soup always makes me feel better."

"I know, darling."

"Do you think Madam LeFey knows that? What if she's not got anyone to make her some soup?"

"Henry, Madam LeFey is a grown woman. If she wants some soup, she'll just...well, probably just magic it into existence. But she will be fine."

"She doesn't really do food very well, Mum. I don't think the fairies were very good cooks. And then she spent a lot of time on her own."

"Henry-" 

"I saw her lunch once. It didn't look very nice."

Regina sighed. "Henry, we've talked about judging other people's tastes."

"I know, Mum. But really. It was just some bread and cheese and like this  _really_  grey meat. Like she'd boiled it, and then did nothing else to it!"

"Henry-"

"She was hurt today, Mum. She needs her strength!"

Regina groaned, and reached for her personal crystal.

"Zelena?"

Wherever her sister was, it was surprisingly quiet.

"Is everything all right, Regina?"

"Yes. Yes. Fine. I was wondering - do you have Madam LeFey's crystal signature? I'd like to contact her, before it gets too late."

"What's going on?"

Regina sighed.

"Henry would like me to bring his teacher some soup."

"Soup?"

"Apparently. To aid in her recovery."

"Soup."

"Steak soup."

"Oh, well. Why didn't you say so in the first place.  _Steak_  soup. Makes all the difference."

"Zelena. The quicker I can ask Madam LeFey if she would like some soup, the quicker you and I can get around to never mentioning this again."

Her sister snorted. "I'm coming over."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to want someone to watch Harry while you go off on your mission of mercy."

"Henry. And ... oh ... right. I thought you were tavern hopping tonight?"

"The bright lights did not appeal," Zelena sighed. "I'm home. Reading. I'll be over in two shakes. And here-"

Regina's crystal glowed as the new signature entered it.

"Thank you," she said, but Zelena had already dropped the connection.

 

When Maleficent answered her crystal, Regina was grateful to see that the worst of the allergic reaction had passed. She looked almost entirely back to normal, saving a few rashes of boils along her hairline and down her neck.

Maleficent smiled at Regina's relieved look.

"Checking up on me, are you?" she asked.

"No," Regina denied forcefully. "Not at all. It's just that...I was wondering... _Henry_  was wondering-"

"How is Henry?"

"He's fine. Nearly back to normal. He's upstairs. I wasn't sure if you'd want to see him."

"Best not," Maleficent said, after a thoughtful pause. "I'm still a bit blotchy."

"But  _so_  much better than before," Regina said fervently, and Maleficent laughed.

"So, if you're not checking up on me-"

"Henry wanted to know if you'd eaten."

"I'm only just getting home, Ms Mills. I was going to eat, yes."

"He wanted to know if you would like some soup," Regina pressed on, wincing a little as the words left her mouth.

Maleficent stared.

"Soup?"

“Yes. We made his favourite. He says it always helps him feel better. He thought you may like some." The words came out in a rush, making her tongue twist and stumble.

"I've never had anyone make me soup."

"Well, then let today be the first," Regina said, then groaned at how inane she sounded.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know this is a bit ridiculous. But my son - he worries. And he's worried about you not eating well enough to heal properly. And I ... I..."

"Have a hard time denying him anything," Maleficent grinned.

Regina wanted to glare and frown and refute. But there was far too much truth in that statement. So she ignored it and said, 

"Would you like some soup? Say no, and we will never talk of this again."

"And if I say yes?" Maleficent asked curiously. 

"Then I'll deliver a tub to your house, and we will never talk of this again."

Maleficent's laugh was a sound of pure delight.

"How could I possibly refuse, Ms. Mills? By all means. Bring me some soup."

 

She'd told Henry where she was going, and that she'd have to use magic to get there. He was so happy that his favourite teacher would not be dining on boiled grey meat that he didn't look in the least bothered by that. Regina also took some brownies with her - these were  _her_  favourites, dark and dense, with cardamom and a touch of red chilli powder mixed in with the chocolate.

Zelena had sat at the kitchen counter while Regina packed the soup and wrapped up the brownies. She hadn't said anything, just watched her sister with a thoughtful look.

"This is nice of you," she said at last. 

It wasn't an accusation, or teasing in any way. If anything, it sounded hopeful, and if Regina had more time to think about it, she may have been a little concerned about what was on her sister's mind.

"You know what Henry's like with people he cares about," she said instead, distracted by trying to find the lid that fit this particular container.

"Hmm. I have no idea where he gets that from," Zelena had grinned, and Regina had glared at her, even as she was placing the food in sturdy bags for transport.

Then she'd left, disappearing from the secure familiarity of her kitchen and reappearing outside an unfamiliar, strange door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina makes a housecall

It wasn't really that strange, she decided after some reflection. This was just a very old house, one of the forgotten ones, beyond the outskirts of town. The forest hugged closely around, and she knew they were up high somewhere. She could hear the rush of water falling over rocks and crashing to ground.

The door in front of her was made from some sort of heavy wood, so darkened by age and smoke that it was impossible to identify. It was bound with straps of black iron that curled across the wood like a sparse-leaved tree. The knocker was a large rough ring, made of the same metal; it grated under her hand and she was barely able to lift and thump it down. It made a dull, hollow, sound, and she doubted anyone inside the house would hear her. She raised her hand to knock again, but it was unnecessary; the door was swinging open.

She had seen Maleficent already tonight, when they had spoken on the crystal, so she knew that her face was mostly free of the effects of the hexes. But the crystal had not revealed details of her hair (curlier than Regina had ever seen it, in frizzled waves that cascaded around her face), nor had it shown that Maleficent had dressed in an elaborate robe of dark silk, with more ties and laces than any one piece of clothing had any business having. Her skin glowed with a damp sheen. She looked like a woman attending a very formal slumber party, who had been interrupted in the middle of a vigorous pillow fight.

"I just got out of the bath," Maleficent said, stepping back to allow Regina leave to enter.

Regina could feel the warmth radiating off her as she brushed past. The dragon must have near boiled herself alive in the bath; but after seeing her state in the Infirmary, Regina could understand a desire to scald the memory of boils and warts from her skin.

"I come bearing gifts." Regina raised the bag she carried, wondering what it was about this evening, and this woman, that made everything she said so asinine. 

Instead of rolling her eyes or smirking, Maleficent merely smiled softly and gestured Regina forward, inviting her to go deeper into her house.

If you had asked Regina what she may expect to find behind a dragon's door, she would have given an offhand response, with not much forethought. Dragons liked to hoard things, and preferred to live in rocky caves. So she would have assumed something rocklike, featuring piles of gleaming treasure.

Instead, she discovered, at least one dragon preferred interiors that would not have been out of place in a small castle a few hundred years in the past. Dark wood paneling, with plush carpets underfoot; paintings in heavy frames on the walls, hung next to faded tapestries and blunt old weapons; at least one suit of armour with a breastplate that had been shredded as though it were paper.

"This is...interesting," Regina said they walked along the hallway. 

Maleficent led her to a drawing room, decorated in much the same theme, with wood and leather and burnished metal, filled with faded glories.

Regina rested her bag on a small round table as she looked around. One item caught her attention, standing out not only because it was the one thing that looked relatively new. It was a painting, large enough that it commanded the room from where it hung on the long wall. The frame was simple - plain wood stained a pale gold. The subject of the painting was a dragon.

It was airborne, wings caught mid-beat; it was flying away from the viewer, but had turned for some reason, the body twisted, the head looking back. The dragon looked furious, nostrils flared and eyes glowing and piercing. Regina could tell its chest was expanding, lungs filling with the mix of chemycals and magic that would pour from the open mouth in gouts of flame. She felt her pulse quicken in response to the danger of being burned.

Maleficent was watching her intently, waiting for a response.

"Is that..it  _is_...it's  _you."_

"Hmm. Well done. How did you know?"

Regina frowned. How had she been so sure?

"It's there..something about the eyes. It's a powerful piece. Beautiful, really. Who made it? Someone in the borderlands?"

"I did."

_"You?"_

"Why do you sound so surprised? It's not so difficult to cast some paint onto a canvas."

"We both know that's not true. And self-portraits are so difficult. You must have some skill!"

Maleficent shrugged. "Or a very clear sense of who you are."

Regina glanced around, but there were no portraits of the dragon in human form in sight.

"Would you like a drink?" Maleficent asked, moving towards a high sideboard that bore decanters and glasses. 

Regina was about to accept when she noticed the boils on Maleficent's wrist and hand; they were diminished now, but still a stark reminder as to why she was here.

"Do you have a kitchen?" she asked instead.

"Oh, of course.  _Soup,"_ Maleficent grinned. "Follow me."

She led her further into the house, along a creaky-floored hallway and through a heavy door, before they ended up in what Regina recognised as a kitchen even though it did not look anything like hers. There was a cold store, and a large table ringed with plain wooden chairs, two deep sinks set into a stone counter, several shelves and cupboards, and a large open fireplace; though the wood was laid and looked dry enough, no fire burned.

"This will do," she said, setting the bag she carried on the table. "Could you light the fire?"

Maleficent extended a finger; a burst of fire leaped from the tip and struck the pile of logs in the fireplace; they blazed merrily to life with a rush of air; the flickering orange flames cast sudden shadows on the walls. Regina stopped herself from crying out in surprise or startling back, but Maleficent was at her side regardless, a steadying hand on her elbow.

"Sorry," she said gently. "I should have warned you."

"It's fine," Regina said shortly, embarrassed to have been so obvious in her reaction. "Do you have a pot? Or something similar?" 

She held up the tub of soup she had brought. "This will melt if I put it over the fire."

"Can't we just-" Maleficent waved her hand over the tub, but didn't actually cast any heating spells over the food.

"No," Regina sighed. "Please? If you don't have one, I can fetch one from home."

"A moment."

Maleficent rummaged in a cupboard and pulled forth a pot; it was slightly dented, but clean and still serviceable.

"Thank you."

Regina uncovered the container and took a metal ladle from her bag. Maleficent smiled when she saw that. She sat at the table and leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hand as she watched Regina work, carefully moving ladlefuls of a thick brown gravy from container to pot.

"This is Henry's favourite," Regina said suddenly, filling the silence that was stretching between them. It had not been an uncomfortable silence, and  _that_  had made her uncomfortable. "He helped make it."

"Helped?" Maleficent's voice was a little startled. "But he can't...I mean, how could..." She broke off. "I'm trying not to offend," she said at last.

Regina looked at her from under lowered lashes, a slight frown on her face as she decided how to respond. She finally settled on the truth.

"He can't use magic. So he helped by chopping things. With a knife. He made the stock - boiled the bones and flavoured the broth. He's not very sure of himself around large cuts of meat yet, so I did that. Used a knife to trim the fat and chop the steak. And prepared the onions. He doesn't like that part much."

"By hand. You cook by hand."

Regina nodded, the look in her eyes fierce and challenging. 

"I've seen weaker magic users resort to hand cooking. But that was out on the borderlands, where rechargers were hard to come by. You live in a town. Power saving -"

"There are only so many power saving devices available to someone with no magic at all. Henry had to learn to do some things entirely by himself."

"But he learned from you."

"Yes."

"You  _have_  magic."

Regina sighed. She'd filled the pot now, and moved over to the fire. She used a hook to hang the pot over the flames, high enough that the bottom wouldn't scorch. 

"When he was born, I knew...he'd need so much.... Recipe books are useless. Have you ever read them? They are really just lists of simple spells. I knew he'd need more, when he was older and off on his own. I had time to learn, so I did. So I could teach him."

"That's why you drive," Maleficent said with dawning understanding.

Regina sighed. "Magic unsettled him, when he was a baby. He cried every time I cast a spell. He was inconsolable when I took him to the doctor and they had to use magic on him. He hated the feel of it so much, I ... I stopped using it around him. And I knew he'd have to adapt, as he got older - find other ways of doing things. So I started using power saving devices. Like the car." 

She kept her back to Maleficent as she spoke, not wanting to see the pity she was sure would be on the dragon's face.

"I trust he is grateful?" Maleficent said. 

Regina turned, arching an eyebrow in query.

The look on Maleficent’s face was difficult to interpret; she was smiling at Regina, her eyes soft and her mouth gentle. If Regina had to guess, she would have called it a look of pride. The thought of that made the heat rush to her face and Regina turned away again.

"Henry would love your home," she said, hoping to find ease in the non sequitur. "He'd think it is like living in an old text."

She heard Maleficent laugh.

"He's welcome to visit, whenever he likes. With your permission, of course."

"He'd need a broom to get up here," Regina pointed out.

"Ah, he did mention that you may allow him one. Depending on how well he does in Flying class."

Regina gave a rueful snort. "He doesn't need the incentive. He loves your class."

"As he should."

Biting back laughter, Regina said, "Bring me a bowl please. This is ready to serve."

Maleficent handed her a large pewter bowl, deep and wide, made for someone with an appetite.

Regina ladled the soup, filling the bowl nearly to the brim. The aroma rose with the steam, and Maleficent inhaled deeply. She carried the bowl carefully back to the table while Regina busied herself putting out the hunks of bread she had brought with her.

Maleficent had a spoon in her hand. She sat contemplating the bowl of soup.

"No one has ever hand cooked me a meal before."

"It won’t hurt you," Regina responded with a wry smile.

Maleficent grinned at her and dug her spoon into the bowl. 

"Oh, I'm not afraid."

She raised her hand to eye height and gave the dripping spoon a cursory glance.

"Some of the things I've eaten would horrify you."

She brought the spoon to her mouth. 

Regina found she was holding her breath.

Maleficent closed her mouth over the spoon.

Her eyes fluttered shut. She moaned; not loud or overly guttural, but still; a definite moan.

Regina's mouth parted as she released the breath she'd been holding and sucked down another.

Maleficent's eyes opened, and fixed Regina with her glare. She looked almost accusatory.

"This..this is..I can't..it's like I've just hunted and am eating my kill."

"Are you comparing my soup to..to a deer carcass?!"

Maleficent shook her head. She ate another spoonful. She did not moan this time, but her gaze was no less intent.

"No. That's not what I meant. This ... this  _soup._  I taste nothing else in it. Just...just...food. Raw and pure. And good. It's good."

"It is different, without the touch of magic," Regina agreed.

She'd noticed that too, early on in her experimentation with hand cooking. Food prepared by magic left a metallic tang on your tongue. It wasn't unpleasant exactly. In fact, some famous chefs were celebrated for the particular aftertaste their magic left. But the meals that she and Henry prepared had none of that, no magical signature stamp. There was an innocence and clarity to their food, but she had never had anyone else remark on it with as much vehemence or enjoyment as Maleficent had.

"Henry will be glad you liked it," she added.

Maleficent made a 'hmm'ing noise as she spooned up more soup. Regina watched for a few moments, and noticed she was responding the same way she did when she and Henry were sitting together over a meal; something warm and comfortable was building in her chest and the corners of her mouth were pulling up into a satisfied smile. She turned away again, keeping the sight of Maleficent safely behind her. She took the last container from her bag, a small square box that contained four brownies. She pulled the lid off, planning to look for a platter of some sort to serve the sweets on.

She heard the soup spoon clatter to the table.

"What is that?"

She sighed. She wished she was less surprised that a dragon would be so much like an eleven-year-old boy. She turned, holding the box in front of her.

"Brownies."

"Did you make those too?"

Regina nodded, and proffered the box.

Maleficent stood and walked across to her, the soup temporarily abandoned. She picked up a dark square in delicate fingers, held the brownie to her nose and inhaled. She made a small noise, a rumble of contentment, and bit off a corner of the cake.

The moan she gave this time came from far deeper in her chest. Regina felt the vibrations of that sound curl around her, and her mouth parted, preparing to respond with a sympathetic moan of her own. She clapped her teeth together just in time.

Maleficent looked at her with hungry eyes.

"This house is filled with treasures," she said, her voice low and husky. "Even if I piled all of them at your feet, I do not think it would be enough payment for a tray of these."

"You don't have to offer me treasures," Regina said, laughing a little breathlessly. "If you want more brownies, all you have to do is say."

"I want more."

It wasn't quite a demand, but it stopped just shy of a request. Regina shivered.

"I'll remember. The next time we bake."

Maleficent went very still, and Regina realised she was waiting, watching her for a sign; she was too afraid to wonder of what. It must have been that fear that was making her heart pound and leaving her mouth dry. It certainly wasn't due to any nascent desire blossoming in the warmth of Madam LeFey's kitchen. This was her son's teacher! She should not be thinking of her as an object of desire in the first place! She stepped back, away from the pull of the dragon. 

Madam LeFey mirrored her action, increasing the space between them.

"I should go. Henry is home with Zelena."

"Is that a problem?" There was confusion in her voice.

"Well, you would think not. But she is probably allowing him a third bowl of ice cream and teaching him inappropriate language even as we speak."

With a small, amused, sound, Madam LeFey turned and began to lead her out of the kitchen.

Regina trailed after her, marveling at how quickly they had returned to an easy, desire-absent, dynamic. Perhaps she had imagined her response, or perhaps it had been simply the heat and closeness of the room that left her feeling lightheaded, with an aching heaviness low in her belly.

 

***

 

Henry was already in his room when she returned, tucked up in bed, but not asleep. She went upstairs to kiss him goodnight and check his shoulder again. When she'd determined he was virtually completely healed, she spent a few minutes telling him the highlights of her evening.

"Did she really say I could visit?" he asked sleepily.

"She did."

"And you'd let me?"

"I don't see why you shouldn't. As long as you aren't bothering her. I think she is quite a private person, Henry. And we should be considerate of that."

"Yes, Mum," he said, biting back a yawn. "I won't overstay my welcome."

She kissed his forehead to hide the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. He was so much like Daniel sometimes, thoughtful and mature beyond his years.

She left him safely tucked up in his warm bed, and went downstairs where her sister was waiting. She was seated on the couch, wrapped in a soft green robe, with slippered feet propped up on the coffee table. She cradled a steaming mug of cocoa in her hands; a similar cup sat on the table, ready for Regina.

"Have fun?" Zelena asked with a look that wasn't pretending to be anything but a leer.

Regina sighed and leaned against the doorjamb.

"Really, Zelena. I wish you'd stop. Madam LeFey is Henry's teacher."

"But a good looking woman too."

"Yes. Yes. She is very attractive. But...there is nothing there Zelena."

Zelena hooted in derision. "Nothing there? Tell that to your eyeballs when they bugged out at the first sight of her legs. Or your tongue when-"

"I get it, Zelena!" Regina interrupted with some heat. "But I am not going to sleep with Henry's teacher!"

"Oh, you're no fun anymore," Zelena pouted.

Regina sighed. “We’ve talked about this. Henry’s older now, Zee. I can't afford to have people talk about his mother."

"You're so grown up!" Zelena complained.

Regina laughed. "And what's your excuse? You could be out there right now-"

"As I said," Zelena cut in coldly, "It's lost its appeal."

"Is everything alright?" Regina asked, her voice gentle, not allowing herself to be drawn to anger by Zelena's curtness.

"Everything's fine, sister dear," Zelena sighed and smiled apologetically. "Just on a bit of a break. But you're not helping, not letting me live vicariously through you."

Regina laughed and flopped down on the couch next to her sister. She leaned into her side, and Zelena wrapped an arm about her shoulders.

"We're a fine pair," Zelena muttered. "The Mills Sisters. Scourge of all Storybrooke. Home by nine, with our feet up and a cup of hot chocolate to warm our beds."

"I could smell the rum in your cocoa from over there," Regina pointed out with a grin.

"A girl can't give  _everything_ up at once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a note to my future self - a reminder that today was supposed to be a day of celebration, a celebration for a victory that had been hard-fought for and a long time coming. So, there's no flippant, jokey little messages on this chapter. It's being posted today, not because I think it's ready or complete, but because today I needed to put something that made me feel good out into the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelena is really doing her best, but she is beset at all turns by stubborn sisters and dragons who would rather pine nobly than go on a date. But they'll quite happily exchange gifts, be all caring about each other, and generally drive poor Zee nuts.

Maleficent was in the staff workroom, casting at one of the large crystals, when Zelena swept in, her long green skirt trailing behind her. Maleficent lifted her head and nodded in acknowledgement when Zelena sat down beside her, but then all her concentration returned to the crystal.

Zelena smirked

“A nice home cooked meal really will do wonders for your health. You look well recovered!”

Maleficent sighed.

“Reg- Ms. Mills was very kind. As was Henry. To think of me.”

“Mmhmm. Kind.”

“Zelena,” Maleficent said warningly.

“Oh come on, Maleficent! Regina won’t let me tease her about it either!”

“There is nothing  _to_  tease about-“

“The pair of you! Pan’s beard! It’s so obvious that you both just…just light up when you’re around each other! You could probably power half of Storybrooke with the sexual ten-”

“Hush!” Maleficent hissed, glaring around the staffroom to see who was near enough to overhear. “Regina has no interest in having sex with me. And that is the end of it, Zelena.”

She gestured at the crystal and it flared bright purple for a moment, and then spat out two sheets of paper. Maleficent grabbed the papers and glared at Zelena.

“I don’t know why you won’t let go of this!”

She stood and stalked away, headed for the staffroom door.

Zelena sat motionless for a moment, her face a mask of conflicting emotion, before she leaped up and hurried after Maleficent. She caught up with her by the large noticeboard in the corridor across from the staffroom. It was between classes, and save for the two of them, the corridor was empty and silent.

“Because I’ve not seen her this  _alive_  about a person…ever!” Zelena virtually snarled.

When she got no response from Maleficent other than a curious look, Zelena continued.

“I wasn’t here when she was with Daniel. But I heard all about him. And after - after Henry. She…well she tried. We’d get him a babysitter, and she came out with me once or twice. Met a few people. But it was never more than…than scratching an itch, really. Then as Henry got older, she chose. She chose to be more grown up and responsible about things. She stopped coming out with me, and she had a few dates, with more sensible people. But then that stopped too. And I get it now, I do. I can understand changing.  _Wanting_  to change. Wanting to be worthy of all that…that  _goodness_. But she was turning into a statue! Then somehow, meeting you - that’s cut through all that. And she’s - well you’ve seen how she is! You’ve noticed. You must have!”

“She’s a good mother,” Maleficent said at last. “And I won’t force her hand beyond that. If she wants more, she knows she only has to say.”

Zelena groaned. “Merlin’s  _pants._  No one told me dragons were so blasted honourable!”

Maleficent gave a self-deprecating little laugh.

“She doesn’t make it easy, believe me.”

She turned to the noticeboard and began pinning up the sheets of paper.

“What’s this?” Zelena demanded, still sounding a little irritated.

“Oh you know, the troupes for the Queen’s birthday celebrations.”

“Right. Agatha said you’d be making the final selections.”

She leaned forward curiously to read the notices, but just then swarms of chattering children swept up along the stairs and poured down the corridors.

Zelena froze. 

It was Year 7, in boisterous good humour. They were waving cardboard swords around and carrying all manner of odds and ends, from drink bottles to heavy books. Belle French was in the thick of them, her hair askew and her face flushed with pleasure and exertion. 

“Are they supposed to be sword fighting?” Maleficent asked.

“Hmm,” Zelena responded, smiling at the noisy children. “They’re helping Year 5 study invaders and conquerors. They’ve just been off to raid their rooms. Year 5 is going to mount a counter attack after lunch.”

Maleficent sighed. “And no one is pretending to be a dragon?” she asked in a glum voice.

Zelena laughed. “It wouldn’t be historically accurate! They’re recreating the Battle of the Bridge.”

The other classes were emptying out now, filling the corridor with chatter and chaos. The Year 7s hurriedly disappeared into their rooms to stash their loot. 

Maleficent and Zelena stepped back from the crush, taking up a safer position at the top of the stairs. A group of Year 9s paused to say hello as they went past.

“Check the board,” Maleficent told them. “Selections for the Queen’s birthday celebrations are posted.”

They whooped and elbowed their way towards the lists she had pinned up. Belle French came up to stand besides Maleficent and Zelena, who were watching the group of students with matching indulgent smiles.

“Madam Lucas must be  _so_  proud, to have the school reinstated in the Birthday Celebrations after all this time,” Belle said by way of greeting.

“She’s worked very hard for it,” Zelena agreed with a small smile.

The corridor had emptied by now, most of the students having dashed off to other classes or lunch. Several Year 9s were still standing around the noticeboards though, calling out to other students as they went by. A handful of Year 7s were leaving their rooms, when two of the Year 9s called out in excitement, “Henry! You’re in!”

Henry ran over to join the other flyers, confusion clear on his face.

Maleficent bit back a grin, and Zelena stared at her in surprise.

“He’s good enough?”

“Two troupes. So we can afford to put up more than just our very best.”

Zelena thumped Maleficent’s arm in celebration, mirroring what a couple of the Year 9s were doing to Henry at the same moment.

“He  _is_  good enough!” Zelena crowed.

Maleficent’s affronted glare at Zelena’s roughhousing went ignored, partially because Henry had run over to his teachers and his aunt, and Zelena was giving him a one-armed hug.

“I’m on the troupe!” he cried, his voice high pitched with his excitement.

“I know,” Maleficent smiled.

“Well done, Henry!” Belle said, patting his shoulder.

The boy lowered his head and flushed with pleasure at the praise.

“We’re going to have to talk your mother into milkshakes to celebrate!” Zelena said, tousling his hair affectionately.

Maleficent stiffened and turned towards the stairs, just as Regina said, “And what are we celebrating?”

She’d come up the stairs, unnoticed in the commotion of the student movements. She was dressed as though for a committee room battle, in severe black and deep, threatening red; the lines of her suit were sharp, and her hair was slick.

“Mum! I made the troupe! For the Queen’s celebrations!”

He cannoned into her, flinging his arms around her waist, and Regina had to take a step back to keep from stumbling back down the stairs.

“That’s wonderful, Henry!” she said, trying to tighten her arms around him, though she was somewhat hindered by the large bag she carried. “That is such an honour!”

He released her, although he was just barely keeping himself from bouncing with excitement. 

Regina chuckled, a warm, throaty sound, filled with affection. She straightened his hair where his aunt had ruffled it, her hand ending up cupping his cheek softly. She was smiling at him, wrapping him in the tenderness of her gaze.

“I am very proud of you, my darling boy. But don’t be late to your next class.”

“Oh! No Mum. I mean, yes Mum!” 

With one last exuberant hug, he dashed off to join his two friends who were waiting impatiently for him at the end of the corridor.

Regina turned to look at Maleficent, the softness lingering in her eyes. 

“We’re sending a troupe of flyers?” she asked, her tone still warm, with no hint of accusation or anxiety.

Maleficent nodded, then as though realising this required a more verbal response, said, “Yes.”

“What Maleficent is not telling you,” Zelena added, in a voice coloured with amused exasperation, “is we’re sending two troupes. The Senior arsonists, and the Junior flyers - Henry’s on the junior troupe.”

“How did we manage to get an invite for  _two?”_ Belle asked.

_“_ One of the entertainments dropped out at the last minute,” Maleficent said, finding her voice again. “We just so happened to be on the crystal with the Palace when they got the news, and Madam Lucas offered a solution.”

“All your groveling finally paid off,” Regina grinned at Zelena, who frowned.

_“Your_  groveling?” Maleficent asked.

“Did you not know?” Regina replied. With her eyes still on Maleficent, she did not notice her sister’s despairing look. “Zelena’s been apologising to the Palace for years. Since she returned to Storybrooke.”

“Why do you need to-“ Belle began.

“Because I’m the reason the school was banned from participating in the Birthday celebrations.” Zelena cut in.

“Oh.” Belle said in surprise. “Madam Lucas never mentioned a name!” 

“What did you-“ Maleficent started, but saw the look in Zelena’s eyes, and stopped. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” she said instead to Regina. “I was planning a thank you gift. For last night.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure,” Regina waved her off, her face flushing suddenly.

“Why  _are_  you here?” Zelena asked suspiciously. “You don’t have a meeting scheduled. Or did you think I’d forget to take Henry home later?”

Regina rolled her eyes at her sister. “Of course not. I was…well, I was working from home this morning,” she said in a suddenly hurried tone. “Preparing for the meeting this evening. And I had some time on my hands. So I baked.”

Maleficent perked up as Regina fumbled around in her bag and pulled out a large, flat box. She handed it to Zelena. 

“I made cookies. I thought…for the staffroom…?”

Zelena pulled back the lid, releasing an aroma of almond and a sweet fruity scent.

“My favourite!” she cried happily. “Thank you, sister dear! Though you do realise you can’t buy a teacher’s favour with baked goods, don’t you? I find whiskey works best for that.”

“Duly noted,” Regina replied drily.

As Zelena offered the cookies to a laughing Belle, Regina took a smaller box from the bag. This box she gave to Maleficent.

“A few more brownies,” she said quietly, not quite meeting Maleficent’s eyes. “I thought you could freeze them until the others-“

“Oh, those are all gone,” Maleficent assured her, taking the box from her with a delighted smile. 

“You are going to have to pace yourself!” Regina laughed. “I won’t be able to keep up!”

Maleficent’s voice lowered, “Then perhaps I should volunteer some assistance? Help you…chop something…or whatever goes into making brownies?”

“My goodness, but you two are hopeless,” Zelena groaned, exasperated. “Just ask her out!”

“Zelena!” Maleficent and Regina both cried at the same moment.

“Fine. Fine. Ignore my sisterly advice,” Zelena said huffily. “Come along Ms. French. I’ll buy you a coffee and some rather fine cookies.”

She flounced off, arm in arm with the librarian. 

“I’m sorry about her-“ 

Again, Maleficent and Regina had spoken simultaneously.

They broke off with wry smiles.

“Thank you for the brownies,” Maleficent said.

“You’re welcome. You’re looking well. Back to normal.”

“Oh, yes. All healed.”

“Good.”

“You’ll be working late tonight?” Maleficent asked, trying to sound casual, as if she were making small talk, as opposed to finding any reason to keep Regina talking to her.

“Hmm. Agatha and I are meeting with some of the councilors.”

“Ah. This is about the dragon transformation law?”

Regina nodded. “She’s told you about it?”

“I knew the law existed. It’s underlined quite strongly for us, wherever we go.”

Regina stiffened. “You’re the first dragon to live in Storybrooke for over 300 years. Removing this law has been a long time coming.” 

“Agatha certainly seems very impassioned about it.”

“Hmm. We  _will_  have it struck down,” Regina said fiercely, her eyes flashing and mouth set with determination. “First in Storybrooke. Then the rest of the Kingdom.”

When Regina walked away from her this time, there was no one to comment on how long Maleficent watched her go.

 

 

Zelena was in her customary spot on the couch, feet up, cup of cocoa in hand, when Regina got home after her meeting.

“He’s upstairs - asleep. I’m sorry. He did try to stay up to see you.”

Regina sighed tiredly, kicked off her shoes and sank into the couch besides her sister. Zelena handed her the mug of cocoa and she took a sip, wincing when the rum hit her system.

“That took longer than I hoped. These pre-vote negotiations can get so acrimonious.”

“Did the wheeling and dealing not go well?” 

“I’d rather be dealing with ogres. They are less narrow-minded and more likely to listen to reason than half the council.” With a deep sigh she added, “Let’s hope we got through to enough of them.”

She took another sip.

“Homework?”

“Done. I checked it. Didn’t tell him the correct answers for the stuff he’d got wrong.”

Regina snorted. “You’re lucky he likes you.”

“Being wrong builds character, sister dear. Look at me. Living proof.”

Regina smiled and nudged her sister’s shoulder. “Oh, you’re not so bad. No. Wait. First tell me - how much ice cream in his milkshake?”

“Just enough. You know you can’t skimp on the ice cream! Even Maleficent agrees.”

“What does Maleficent have to do with anything?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention? She stopped by earlier, to drop that off.” She gestured at a paper-wrapped parcel, tied with string, that was propped up on an armchair. It wasn’t very big - about the size of an over-sized book. Regina sat up and turned towards Zelena.

“What is this?”

“I don’t know!” Zelena replied, throwing her hands up defensively. “I just said I’d keep it safe for you.”

Regina stood and walked over to the parcel. She picked it up carefully; it was heavier than it looked. A little card tucked into the string bore the words ‘thank you’. She eased the string off and the paper parted easily under her hands, dropping to the ground unheeded. Her entire attention was taken up by the square of framed canvas the paper had concealed.

It was a painting. It was obvious who the artist was - the style was identical to the portrait of the dragon she had seen in Maleficent’s home, and it depicted someone in flight. The subject of this painting, however, was Henry.

He was on his broom, the clouds were dark grey behind him, but incongruously bright in the sunlight. He looked as though he were flying through a sunbeam, his skin glowing, his hair whipping in the wind, and his face alight with joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should stop being horrible to Zelena, no?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Project Day at Madam Lucas's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though we're 10 chapters in, this is very much a groundwork laying chapter. A hint of a plot may be sneaking in.

The school was a hive of activity; even though it was only the Year 7s and 8s hosting their presentations, it seemed even busier than it had on the evening of parent conferences. This was supposed to be a fun morning, a time for parents to come in and see the children show off projects they were particularly proud of. One group was running a little cafe, with singers and musicians performing between serving hot chocolate and snacks. A large crowd was gathered around a young girl with dark hair, who sat with her eyes shut tight in concentration as the violin, guitar, and piano that surrounded her played in unison. Another group was out on the fields, playing various games they had invented with the handful of parents who were brave enough to volunteer. Individual students were dotted through the Great Hall and out in the gardens, giving little talks and demonstrations.

Henry was in the Great Hall; Regina had just listened to him hold forth on his topic to a small group of parents. Henry’s presentation had been well-researched, his dioramas and maps had been meticulously made, and the illustrations he’d displayed behind him had been insightful. She’d filled out the little response cards he’d given to his audience, trying very hard to remain objective and impartial. He’d shooed her away when she finished, not wanting his mother’s presence to intimidate a potential new audience. She’d kissed him briefly, aware of the fact that he wouldn’t appreciate being made a fuss off in front of all these people but unable to stop herself regardless, and then gone off to see what the other children had on display.

As she meandered through the stalls and tables, she said hello to a number of teachers who were mingling amongst the throng of parents, taking official notes on the children’s work. She wasn’t looking for Maleficent, because she knew she was out on the playing fields, but she was hoping she would run into her on some off chance. They had spoken on the crystal just a few times since she had come home to find the gift of the painting, but hadn’t really had any reason to see each other in person. Regina had been busier than usual, juggling her regular work commitments with the continuing preparations for the upcoming public council meeting and vote. A part of her didn’t want to see Maleficent until after the vote, but a growing part of her was missing their easy banter. Instead of the flying instructor though, she found the librarian.

Belle had been examining a painting, moving backwards and forwards to see it from different vantage points; she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings or who was trying to pass by.

“Hello Ms. French,” Regina said when Belle bumped into her.

“Oh! Sorry Reg- Ms. Mills. I didn’t see you there. Isn’t this a fascinating painting?”

Regina looked at the work in question – a three-dimensional roiling mass of colour that made her stomach churn.

“It’s certainly…emotive,” she said, not specifying which particular emotions it invoked in her. “I hear congratulations are in order. Zelena tells me your new book will be launching tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Belle blushed. “Thank you. Zelena’s been very supportive.”

“She does enjoy a well-written tale.”

“Have you seen Henry’s project?”

“I have.”

“I was most impressed. We’ve not got anywhere near the story of Bergham and Bertha,” Belle said, naming the royal siblings whose fight for the throne had led to the dragon transformation law.

“He’s very keen on learning more about the history of dragons,” Regina said with a proud smile. She had reason to be proud. Henry’s presentation had culminated in a very logical and sound condemnation of Bergham’s idiotic law. He had stopped only just shy of calling the short-lived king a short-sighted coward.

“He certainly won me over!” Belle said enthusiastically. “Not that I had a different opinion before – I mean…if it were up to me…I’m totally on your side on this one.”

Regina patted Belle’s arm soothingly.

“I know, Ms. French.”

“Are you going to listen to any other presentations today?”

“Yes. I’m looking for Alan actually.”

Alan and Riggs (who was outside playing the game he had helped invent) had been Henry’s friends virtually from his first day at Madam Lucas’s. Regina had seen a lot of these boys over the years, and had done enough refereeing of fights, cleaning up scraped knees, and feeding ravenous appetites in that time that she had developed more than a cursory interest in their lives. She was fond of Alan because he reminded her so much of Henry himself; he was an earnest, bookish, young man, lanky, with an open face and dark, guileless eyes.

“Oh, that’s a good one!” Belle told her. “It’s over this way.”

She led her through the maze of displays, until they came to the little table in the corner where Alan was just starting to speak to a small group of parents.

His display was not quite as elaborate as Henry’s. There were some reproductions of old leather-bound journals and feather quills on the table. On the board behind him were images of a serious looking man, dressed in the clothing of a nobleman, and old maps. Taking the central position were reproductions of pages yellowed with age; these were arranged in two columns. Someone had circled various sections on pages in one column and drawn lines connecting each to sections of pages in the other column.

“Everyone knows,” Alan was saying “that Rowan the Recorder was meticulous about keeping notes and records. Some people think that, because Rowan was not very powerful – in magic that is – that he became obsessed with the one thing he was good at. And because he was such a wealthy lord, he could afford to spend all his time writing. Because he didn’t have to farm or hunt to feed himself and his family.”

Regina smiled; she’d been hearing all about Rowan the Recorder from Henry as his Year studied this early version of a historian in Ms. French’s Texts and Legends class.

“You know they have a competition? The three of them,” she whispered to Belle. “Whoever has kept the longest journal by the end of the term, wins.”

“Really? Well, that explains why they’re always insisting I tally their pages!”

“Hmm. They started out just trying to be the most consistent with daily entries, but you know what those boys are like.”

“Competitive.”

“Indeed. Henry’s up to three pages a day, at last count.”

Belle smiled. “Ah. And here I thought he was trying to be just like Rowan and record all sorts of things, not just recount his day. I do love reading the little stories and jokes he’d made up. He’s even illustrating them!”

“They get extra points for illustrations,” Regina said drily, and Belle giggled.

With a guilty start, both women realised that they’d stopped paying attention to Alan. Thankfully, it seemed he had only just got through talking about Rowan’s early life, and was now getting to what appeared to be the main point of his presentation.

“Then with the discovery of the diaries of the Prior at Gatesend, historians were able to compare Rowan’s journals with someone else who was recording things at the same time. They found something really interesting. There are all these similarities between what the Prior was recording in his diaries, and the things that Rowan was writing about.”

Alan pointed at the two columns of pages behind him.

“Here we see Rowan’s entries, and this side is what seems to match with the Prior’s diaries. But what is really interesting is the _dates_ of Rowan’s entries. All of them are made _before_ the Prior’s!”

He sounded really excited at his declaration, but when he did not get any signs of shared excitement from his audience, he looked a bit crestfallen.

“How can you explain that?” Regina asked. “Could Rowan have been mistaken in his dates?”

“No!” Alan said emphatically, brightening up at the question. “He was always really careful about stuff like dates. Most of these entries are records of dreams he had. Some are things he says he wishes would happen.”

“So, are you saying Rowan could see the future?” asked a man in the audience, getting into the spirit of things.

“That is one possibility,” Alan said, his confidence growing. “But that’s not what I think is going on.”

“What do you think?” the man asked, smiling back at the boy.

“Well…some historians are saying this is evidence that Rowan was really a Storyteller,” Alan replied.  

 “But Storytellers are just myths. Legends.” The man laughed as he said it, and Regina and Belle directed twin glares at him.

“This is a project for his Texts and Legends class, Mr. Thibault.” Belle pointed out evenly.

“But, you have to admit it’s a bit farfetched,” Mr. Thibault said, looking perplexedly from the women to the boy. “The idea that someone can alter the future just by writing about it! If such a power does exist, why don’t we hear about it more often?”

“Because Storytellers are rare!” Alan said, his voice rising with growing excitement at getting to debate someone over his presentation. “About one a generation – that’s the estimate. And if they die young, or...or…never realise the power they have – like Rowan! He may not have realised what he was doing! And yes there’s only about ten similar items, but..but…who knows how many other places in the world had things happen the way Rowan wrote them! And-“

“Okay, okay,” Mr. Thibault said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You’ve certainly given this a lot of thought!”

Alan nodded vigorously. “Yeah. I think it’s kind of cool to think that Storytellers are real.”

The rest of the audience laughed good naturedly and applauded. Alan beamed as he handed out his response cards, and Belle made notes in her grade book.

Regina went over to look more closely at the display as she filled out her card. The pages Alan had pinned up were prints of images of the original entries, made using a large crystal.

“How did you manage to get these?” she asked him, as she looked between two of the linked pages. On one was a paragraph of Rowan’s flowing script; he had a rambling style, as though he were writing a chatty letter to a friend, telling them how he had dreamed about an overflowing dam drowning the field of sunflowers he hated so much. The linked entry in the Prior’s diary was much more formal – a note of three days of rain, swollen rivers, and a list of the damage caused by an overflowing dam – including the destruction of one field of sunflowers.

“Ms. French has a friend at the university library in the Capital,’ Alan told her. “She was able to get me copies of the pages. And I got to talk to the librarian about Storytellers too.”

She smiled at him; trust Alan to be even more excited about an obscure bit of legend than even Henry would be.

“I thought you handled yourself with Mr. Thibault very well.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

She handed him his card back and patted his shoulder, needing to reach a bit higher than she would have with Henry.

“I enjoyed your talk very much, Alan. Well done. Now, I’m off to try Riggs’ project. I’m looking forward to seeing how he managed to turn a siege weapon into a game.”

“Oh,” Alan said guardedly. He looked around, then leaned in closer to Regina, lowering his voice to say, “Maybe you shouldn’t try it, Ms. Mills. Riggsy was messing about with it this morning, and he said he may have made the throwing spell a little more powerful than it needed to be.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Regina whispered back.

Belle was still filling out her gradebook, so Regina left her to it and made her way towards the glass doors that led down to the playing fields.

The doors opened just before she reached them, and Zelena came barreling through on a gust of cold air. Her sister was dressed for the outdoors, in a long-sleeved emerald-green tunic over soft trousers tucked into dark boots. Her hair was loose and a little wild from the wind, her eyes bright, and her cheeks flushed. She smiled even wider when she saw Regina.

“Sister dear! Off to brave the elements?”

“I thought I’d go play Riggs’ game.”

“Oh you should! It’s tremendous fun. But make sure you get one of the larger buckets. It’s easier to catch the ball in those.” Then she grinned wickedly and added, “Though I’m sure Maleficent will give you all the tips you need.”

“Hush,” Regina said, but then could not stop herself from asking, “Maleficent is out there?”

Zelena’s grin stayed firmly in place. “Uh huh. We’ve been challenging each other. Riggs built two miniature trebuchets and set them up to fire these little rubber balls. You get to see how many you can catch in three minutes. Whoever gets the most balls wins a prize. You’d be amazed how many fathers are willing to nearly kill themselves over a bar of dark chocolate.”

“I see _you_ are candy free,” Regina said with a grin.

“Unfair!” Zelena protested, “Maleficent’s reflexes are unreal…she’s a _dragon!”_

“Sounds like sour grapes to me, sister dear.” Regina’s grin was as wicked as Zelena’s had been.

Before the teasing could escalate, Regina noticed a bloom of colour under Zelena’s right eye. As her sister’s skin warmed indoors, the flush had left her face, making the reddened shape along her cheekbone startlingly obvious.

“What have you done to yourself?” she asked.

Zelena raised her hand and prodded her cheek, wincing slightly.

“Missed a catch,” she started to say.

She was interrupted by Belle’s worried voice.

“Zelena! You’re hurt!”

Zelena jumped as though coming to attention, her spine stiffening and shoulders squaring.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a ball to the face.”

The shorter woman had come up to her, her hand raised so she could brush her fingers along Zelena’s face.

“No one’s supposed to get hurt.”

Belle sounded worried, and Zelena smiled at her.

“It’s fine, Belle, really. Riggsy’s little game isn’t dangerous. Not if you’re being careful.”

“And you can’t be careful.”

It wasn’t really a question, and Zelena shrugged.

“I’m trying.” Her voice was soft, but earnest.

Belle sighed.

“I’d better go out there and see that everything’s all right. I wouldn’t want Riggs to have his project marked down because people are getting battered and bruised by it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Zelena protested as Belle walked away. “It’s a siege weapon! It’s _supposed_ to hurt!”

Belle had made it to the door before Regina remembered Alan’s remark.

“Ahh. Zelena, maybe you should go with her. Alan said something about Riggs altering the throwing spells, to make them more powerful.”

“Merlin’s _pants,”_ Zelena swore. “She’s going to be _so_ nice about being right!” She stomped after Belle, muttering darkly, “I’m putting Riggs in detention till winter.”

Regina hesitated over following her sister, but then the decision was made for her when the doors opened again, and a heavily bundled up dragon walked in.

She stood and watched as Maleficent shed layers, unwinding the long scarf from around her neck, tugging the gloves off her hands, and unzipping her jacket. She threw the hood back from her head, revealing a cold-reddened face, and only then noticed Regina staring.

“You find this amusing?” Maleficent asked, reacting to the smirk on Regina’s face.

“I was just wondering how you were going to manage winter.”

Maleficent groaned. “Roaring fireplaces and rum.”

“Were you running around catching balls in a bucket – dressed like _that?_ I’m impressed.”

“Oh. That reminds me,” Maleficent said with a sly smile. She put her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate. “I _was_ going to offer to share this with Zelena.”

“Very generous of you,” Regina murmured, standing steadfast as Maleficent moved closer.

“But I think you’d enjoy it more.”

It was an innocent enough comment on the face of it, but Maleficent lowered her voice as she said it, like she was letting Regina in on some deep secret, drawing her into a conspiratorial space that no one else was being permitted entry to.

She held the chocolate on her open palm, her eyebrow arching in question.

Regina reached up, her touch delicate as she took the candy, careful to not brush her fingertips against Maleficent’s palm. As though any contact at all would be a dangerous thing.

“Giving up your spoils of war?” Regina said softly. “That isn’t a very dragon-like thing to do, is it?”

“Hmm. Depends on the dragon.”

“Mum!”

Henry’s voice shattered the pull that was building between them, the sudden severing of it causing them to stumble back from each other.

“Henry.” She managed a smile for him, tremulous, but sincere.

“We’re breaking for lunch. Are you going to stay much longer?”

“I’m sorry, darling. I have to leave soon. My afternoon’s booked solid.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Okay.”

“I’ll eat with you,” Maleficent offered. “If you’d like?”

He looked at his mother, who nodded.

“That’d be awesome!”

Maleficent grinned at his enthusiasm, and said to Regina, “They’re not working you too hard are they, at the Mayor’s office?”

“Final preparations – for the council meeting tomorrow.”

“Ah. Of course.”

“Mum,” Henry interrupted, bouncing a little in his excitement. “Can I ask her?”

Regina gave her son an indulgent smile and brushed back the hair that had flopped over his forehead.

“Now’s a good a time as any.”

Henry turned back to a confused-looking Maleficent.

“Madam LeFey, would you come to my birthday party?”

“Birthday?”

“Yeah. My birthday is exactly a week before the Birthday Celebrations. I timed it really well.”

Maleficent glanced at Regina, who had covered her face with her hand.

“Henry,” she said softly.

“What? Aunt Zelena always says that!”

“I know. I know. It’s just…inside joke, darling. Not everyone’s going to get it.”

Mother and son looked at the dragon, who looked even more confused.

“It’s a long story,” Regina said.

“Will you come to my party?” Henry asked.

“I…I’m not sure…”

“We will completely understand if you can’t,” Regina added hastily, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder in an attempt to reign in his enthusiasm a little. “It’ll be a busy time for you – preparing for the Celebrations and-“

“I’ve never been invited to a birthday party before.”

“Oh.”

“What does it…what should I…”

She looked so helplessly confused that both Regina and Henry immediately started bubbling over with advice and explanations.

“It’s just a party.”

“People come by the house. Henry’s friends.”

“We play games.”

“There’s food.”

“Mum makes cake! Like – the best chocolate cake _ever.”_

“There’ll be adults there too.”

“Aunt Zelena does tricks.”

“Henry’s also asked Ms. French this year.”

“We have sleepovers!”

“Only Alan and Riggs sleep over.”

“And Aunt Zelena!”

“And Zelena.”

“It’s fun!”

“It is.”

As the deluge petered out, Maleficent looked no less confused. She glanced from one dark-eyed, hopeful face to the other. She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“You’ll come?”

“I will.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks and food and conversation. Mal and Regina and Zelena get to know each other a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-ish update because I couldn't see a way to logically break this into two parts. But that could also mean a long-ish break before the next update :(
> 
> (also, they're getting there. honestly. I promise. they're just taking the long route and seeing the elephant*)

 

The tavern was dark - dark wood planks underfoot, dark paneling against the walls, lights turned so low the interior may as well have been lit by nothing but candles. Even the music was dark, a haunting violin playing softly in one of the taprooms. 

Maleficent entered that room; most of the patrons of the tavern had chosen to drink outdoors, sitting at tables under a clear sky, warmed by large free-standing burners. But it seemed at least one other person preferred to drink alone tonight.

Maleficent sighed when she saw the woman at the bar. The dark green cloak had been flung carelessly over the back of the chair, revealing a paler green suit. The red hair had been pulled back and twisted into a neat bun. Zelena looked every inch the professional, serious, academician; or she would have, if it hadn't been for the line of empty shot glasses on the bar before her.

The bartender looked up when Maleficent paused in the doorway.

“You drinking?” he asked. “Kitchen closed a while ago.”

Zelena did not even bother to turn; she simply waved at the bartender to bring her another line of glasses. 

Maleficent strode forward, holding up two fingers at the bartender. As he set to work on pouring the drinks, Maleficent took the seat next to Zelena. 

“You’re out late. For a school night,” she started conversationally. She dragged closer the bowl of green-coated nuts that Zelena had seemingly been throwing into the dirty glasses piled up by the sink behind the bar. 

“Could say the same for you,” Zelena replied, barely slurring. “And I don’t have to be up on a broom tomorrow, drilling the Junior flyers for their epic performance before the Queen.”

“I was at the council meeting,” Maleficent said. 

The bartender started placing filled shot glasses on the bar.

“Ohhh. The big vote! Regina’s been stressing about it all _day!_ How did it go?”

“Ten to seven against.”

Zelena winced. She raised one of her shot glasses, waited until Maleficent had done the same, clinked their glasses together, and then downed the amber liquid. Maleficent mirrored the action.

“Damn. She hoped she’d done enough.”

“She fought hard,” Maleficent said with a wry smile. 

“I’m sorry.”

Maleficent shrugged. “It’s hard to undo hundreds of years of inertia and ignorance. Even Regina Mills may take longer than a few weeks to accomplish that.”

Zelena snorted and downed another shot. Maleficent sipped thoughtfully at her second drink.

“What brings  _you_  here?” she asked.

“Oh. You know. The usual. Angry fathers and sisters.”

“I’m not following.”

“Belle’s family is in town. For the book launch.”

“I’d forgotten. That was tonight.”

“Hmm. Small affair. Nice little place, down by the river. Very posh. Belle read a little. There was wine. People were very polite about it all.”

“Until…?”

“Until her blasted sisters! Jeanne and Marie.” The names fell off her tongue like they tasted bad. “Have you met them? Awful women. Utterly self-centred. Had the gall to tell Belle that her work was silly, because any idiot could write, but only the real talents made any money off it. As though money is everything!”

“I take it you told them this?”

“I may have. May have said a little more.”

“And the angry father-“

“Hah. Belle’s father’s an ass. He’s never there for her, have you noticed? He’s so focused on his business.”

Maleficent downed her third drink. She was already two behind Zelena.

“He didn't like hearing that, huh?”

“Not much,” Zelena said glumly. “He yelled at Belle. I yelled at him. Belle yelled at me.”

“Belle yelled?” Maleficent asked, disbelievingly. 

“She told me I was being an idiot.”

“She’s not far wrong.”

“Why do you think I’m drinking?”

 

 ***

 

Regina felt the polite push of an unfamiliar magic against her house wards. She went to the door, looked through the little viewer to see who was at her doorstep so late at night, startled back a little, but then lowered the wards and opened the door.

Maleficent was leaning against a porch column, one arm wrapped tightly around Zelena’s waist. Zelena was slumped heavily against Maleficent’s side, her eyes glazed over and barely open. 

“What is going on?” Regina snapped at Maleficent. “Is she-“ She broke off as the fumes of alcohol reached her. “Are the pair of you-“

“I’m not so bad,” Maleficent promised. “I only kept her company a little while. But I didn’t want to leave her there. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to bring her.”

“You’d best come inside.” She moved away from the door to let the two other women stumble through. “Help me get her upstairs.”

“Regina,” Zelena’s slurring was pronounced now. “Apparently I’m an idiot.”

“Oh good. You don’t need my help to work that out.”

Zelena sniffled, and Regina relented immediately.

“Oh Zelena,” she murmured gently and slipped an arm around her sister’s waist to steady her as Maleficent helped her stumble up the stairs. “I thought you were on a break from taverns.”

“I was. But Belle asked if I’d come for moral support. And her sister was  _such_  a stuck up so-and-so, Regina. Honestly. You’d’ve done the same.”

“What exactly  _did_  you do?”

Zelena giggled. “Oh nothing much. Nothing a Year 10 student couldn’t have done.” She waggled her fingers at Maleficent. “Sadly she wasn’t allergic.”

“You hexed Belle’s sister?” Maleficent said, aghast.

“Oh, not very much. Just a few pimples and warts all over her nose. And I left the other one alone. That should count for something, right?”

“Very thoughtful,” Regina muttered as they got to the top of the stairs.

“That’s what  _I_ said!” Zelena crowed. “I was being  _very-“_

“Aunt Zelena?”

The three women froze.

Henry stood in the doorway of his bedroom, sleepy-eyed but very much awake. He took in the sight of his aunt propped up on one side by his mother and his flying instructor on the other.

“What’s going on?”

“Your Aunt is not feeling so well,” Regina replied carefully.

“It’s a school night,” Henry told his aunt sternly. “You shouldn’t be out drinking.”

“Henry!” Regina cried, but Zelena merely chuckled.

“You’re right Harry. Good point. Here’s a tip for you though. Stay away from horrible sisters, and you’ll be fine.”

“Back to bed, Henry,” Regina said firmly. “I’ll come say goodnight again in a minute.”

“Yes, Mum.” He paused. “Will Aunt Zelena be okay?”

“I’ll be  _fine,_ Harry,” Zelena responded in a firm, if slightly slurring, voice. “I’m just going to have a little sleep. Then in the morning, I’m making…no, not waffles. I don’t like waffles. Pancakes. I’ll make pancakes. Okay? Those really thin fiddly ones you like so much.”

“Okay,” Henry said in hesitant tones. He looked at his mother who nodded pointedly at him. He shrugged, said, “Goodnight everyone,” and re-entered his room.

Regina and Maleficent managed to get Zelena to the spare room without any further incident.

Zelena had reached the morose stage of her drunkenness. She slumped down on to the bed and made no move to lay down or make any other preparations for sleep. Her face was glum, her mouth down-curved and her eyes moist with unshed tears.

“Did she cast a counter spell?” Regina asked. “For the hangover?”

“No,” Maleficent replied. “She could barely stand, let alone cast.”

“The bathroom,” Regina said to Maleficent. “There’s a jug and a glass. Would you please?“

“Yes. Of course. Water.” 

“And there’s a little green bottle in the bottom drawer. Would you bring that too?”

When Maleficent had left the room, Regina sat beside Zelena and took her hand.

“What’s going on, Zelena?”

Zelena leaned over until her head rested on Regina’s shoulder.

“I fucked up. I put my nose where it wasn’t wanted. Belle hates me now.”

“And do we care if Belle hates you?”

“We do,” Zelena sniffled. “Very much.”

“Oh. My darling girl,” Regina said softly.

“I’m such a screw up.”

“You are not,” Regina’s voice was still soft, but fierce. “You will go to her in the morning and explain-“

“I can’t. Oh gods Regina, please don’t make me face her.”

“You aren’t a coward-“

“I am! I am when it comes to her.”

“You will at least apologise for hexing her sister!”

“But I’m not sorry!” Zelena wailed.

The bathroom door opened.

“I don't mean to interrupt,” Maleficent said apologetically. “But I have the water. And this.” She held up and shook a small green bottle, making a little rattling noise.

“Ah. Good. Thank you.” 

Regina took the bottle from Maleficent, uncorked it, and shook two small white capsules into her hand. She dropped the pills into the glass of water; they fizzed and dissolved, turning the water a pale shade of green.

“Drink. The entire thing,” Regina said, handing the glass to her sister.

Zelena sighed, but did as she was told. 

“Shoes,” Regina ordered next, as she helped Zelena get more comfortable for bed, removing her jacket and loosening her shirt. She tucked the blankets over her sister, smoothed the tangled hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. 

“Sleep well,” she said softly. “Things’ll look better in the morning.”

Zelena was already snoring by the time Regina and Maleficent reached the bedroom door.

 

 

Maleficent followed Regina, and waited outside the door while Regina slipped into Henry’s room to check in on him. 

“She’d had quite a lot to drink,” Maleficent told Regina, when she had satisfied herself that Henry was sleeping. “I’m not sure that a tincture for pain relief will be sufficient remedy.”

“Oh, that wasn’t just for pain relief. It was a powersaving compilation - Zelena’s own formulation. It’ll counter the effects of the alcohol.”

“An anti-hangover pill? Why not just use the spell itself?”

“Zelena is quite committed to the rules about no magic in this house.”

“Even under these circumstances?”

“It is by her own choice,” Regina responded, her voice warm. “She knows that she could bend the rules. In an emergency. But she’s always been very careful of Henry’s feelings.”

Maleficent smiled. 

“He thinks very highly of her too.”

“Thank you.” Regina placed a gentle hand on Maleficent’s arm, making her turn back so she was looking at Regina. 

“For taking care of her,” Regina added softly.

“It was not an imposition. I was in the tavern anyway.”

Regina glanced briefly at the timepiece in the hallway, then back at Maleficent. She noted the signs of tiredness - slightly slumped shoulders and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Have you eaten?”

“Oh. Well. Yes. There was a bowl of nuts at the tavern.“

“That is not dinner!” Regina said, her tone slightly horrified. She continued tentatively, “Would you like…I mean, it’s not much. Just some baked rice. But, it’s there, if you’d like it.”

“I would,” Maleficent replied fervently even before Regina had entirely finished speaking.

With an amused grin, Regina led Maleficent into her kitchen, where she busied herself taking bowls of food from the cold store and turning on the stove. She noticed Maleficent examining the kitchen curiously, paying close attention to things that Regina had stopped noticing years ago. From her visit to Maleficent’s home, Regina knew that their kitchens were nothing alike. Regina’s kitchen was large, more than twice the size of Maleficent’s. There were counters and cupboards, utensils hanging off hooks set into the walls, and a long wooden table that bore marks and scuffs from having held years of meals and Henry’s school projects. She wondered what Maleficent was making of the metal box that kept things cold, and the other metal box that produced enough heat to cook on. 

Maleficent noticed the painting she had made of Henry, framed and hanging over a counter, set opposite the table. 

“I like being able to see it when I work,” Regina told her. “He looks so completely in his element.”

“That is how I see him, in class. I thought you may enjoy having some sense of that.”

“I do. Very much.” 

They exchanged quiet smiles, little looks of gratitude and shared affection for Henry’s love of flying.

Regina filled a plate with food, set the oven to ‘warm’ and placed the plate inside. Maleficent watched for a moment, then seemed to lose interest and continued her examination of the kitchen. 

Regina found it strangely soothing to have someone else in the room while she worked; strange because this someone was not her family. She and Henry spent a lot of time here, and Zelena would occasionally participate in food preparation. Maleficent was the only other person to have been in this room while Regina cooked, and it should perhaps have left her feeling a little self-conscious. But the dragon did not distract Regina with questions or commentary, and her movements were almost hypnotic, smooth and unhurried, lulling Regina into a feeling of calmness. 

Maleficent had stopped by the cold store and was absorbed in examining the side. Regina knew what she was looking at. There were a series of pictures stuck there; drawn in a childish hand, bearing no hint of magic, these were images Regina had saved from different stages of Henry’s early education. She could close her eyes and see them in her mind’s eye. The sun invariably shone, a bright yellow circle in one corner of the paper, and the sky was a vibrant line of blue; two stick figures featured regularly, easily recognisable by the red and black squiggles over their heads; a smaller dark-haired figure often stood beside or between them; everyone was smiling. 

Regina waited for a comment or question, but Maleficent did not speak. She simply looked at these images, only distracted when Regina took the plate from the oven and placed it on the table. The generous heap of rice and meat was filling the room with a smoky, earthy scent, promising spice and heat. 

Regina pulled out a chair at the table. “Come,” she said, her voice throaty and low. “Eat.”

When Maleficent moved towards her, Regina was put in mind of one of the big cats she’d seen at the palace menageries, all long smooth lines and a watchful gaze. She sat down, picked up her fork and dug in, spearing a chunk of sausage; she chewed it slowly and thoroughly, humming in pleasure the whole while.

Regina felt her hands flutter, moving automatically towards Maleficent - whether she’d intended to smooth the hair back from Maleficent’s face, or stroke along her shoulder, she’d never know; she caught herself just as her hands had risen to waist high. She turned the stuttering movement into tidying up, putting things away and wiping down the counter. She didn’t stop there, suddenly too nervous to stand besides Maleficent while she devoured what Regina had made with such obvious enthusiasm. So she flitted around the kitchen instead, moving and rearranging things that did not need moving or rearranging. 

“Regina. Sit down.”

The words cracked out, more an order than a request. 

Regina froze, eyes widening in shock then immediately starting to narrow in challenge. 

Maleficent leapt to her feet, her own eyes wide. She looked utterly mortified.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…that was not.”

A deep breath, then they spoke simultaneously, asking and answering identically.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“No!”

Regina held up her hands “I’m not nervous. I’m just not used to having someone here, who isn’t Henry, or Zelena. We don’t often entertain company in here.”

Maleficent stiffened. “I should go.”

“I didn’t say that. Please. Stay. Finish your meal.”

Maleficent took her seat again, warily.

Regina sat down across from her, placed her hand on her chin, and said softly, “Eat.”

Maleficent scooped up another forkful of food, watching Regina’s face. Regina only smiled encouragingly; it wasn’t so difficult to do this, to sit here and watch this woman eat at her table. It didn’t have to be more than this. It was just a shared meal, a politeness; there was no need to read intimacy into this.

“I can understand it being strange to have me here,” Maleficent said suddenly. “I’m more accustomed to eating alone than not. Always have been.”

“Even in the borderlands? I thought you were part of a mercenary crew?”

“I was. But I didn’t eat many meals with them.” 

As they talked, both women relaxed more and more, until Regina began to absentmindedly reach across to pick up bits of sausage from Maleficent’s plate, popping them into her mouth while Maleficent spoke.

“The food was a bit hit and miss,” Maleficent continued. “I fed myself most days.” In answer to Regina’s frown, she added. “I’d hunt. I’d go dragon and find something nice and juicy. It was good country for hunting. Nothing bigger than a bear to challenge me on the ground, no one else in the skies but the eagles. No king in his castle lived better than me.”

“I saw you - at the council meeting. I’m sorry. About the vote.”

Maleficent shrugged. “It’s not such a big deal. I’m still not sure why Agatha petitioned the Council. But it doesn’t bother me. At least they were not voting to keep me from working at the school. Or to kick me out of town.”

“It is a ridiculous law,” Regina pointed out, her eyes starting to tense with her growing emotion. “Over three hundred years out of date. You heard Agatha - there are no laws denying  _werewolves_ transformation within town limits. Why should they be exempt, and not dragons?”

Maleficent grinned.

“Are you saying that werewolves are as dangerous as dragons? Because I’d beg to differ.”

Regina thumped her hand on the table.

“This is  _not_  about bragging rights for the extra-human species, Maleficent! You yourself would like us to be more understanding of ogres!”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be flippant. But truly, Regina. That law was made by a cowardly king, who was trying to prove a point to  _his_  people. Not to mine. It makes no difference to me. Do you think that I don’t cut a swathe through Storybrooke in my dragon form because of a  _law?_  I realise how dangerous a dragon in a human area can be, so I don’t go dragon here. But if I ever needed to - if there was an emergency that demanded the dragon - I’d transform. Let your defense forces come looking for me later.”

Regina sighed. “I know that. I know the law is essentially toothless. But that’s not why we’re fighting to get it removed. Think what that law says - to children like Henry and his friends. That we don’t trust your kind. Even now, after all this time. And we  _shouldn’t_  feel that way. Especially not in this day and age.”

“Some of us aren’t very nice,” Maleficent pointed out, her mouth curving into a slow teasing smile. “Ask any of my students right after I’ve set some homework.”

Regina smiled thinly.

“You’re deflecting.”

Maleficent sighed. “I am. You’ve fought hard for this, Regina. As has Agatha, I know. Surely you’ve earned some respite?”

“This town is better than this,” Regina said sadly. “There is room here for everyone. Whatever our background, or our power. I have to believe that. And if that means more … fights with idiot council members and brainless dolts before they’ll see - then so be it.”

The room grew silent; Regina sat staring at her hands and Maleficent watched her. She saw now why this meant more to Regina than simply doing away with an unfair, if pointless, law. 

“How can I help?”

Regina looked up, her eyes narrowed.

“I thought this didn’t bother you.”

Maleficent shrugged. 

“It is of no consequence to me personally - but I see its importance to you. For your child, and for the world you are trying to build for him. How can I help? I could speak at your next public meeting,” Maleficent offered. “Perhaps hearing from one of us may help them understand. Or I could do something a little more…practical. To make the point a little more clearly.”

“Oh no. You will not go rampaging down Main Street in dragon form just to show how pointless a law it is!”

Maleficent grinned. “I didn’t realise your powers extended to mind reading.”

“They don’t. But I am apparently getting quite good at understanding  _you.”_  Regina replied with a pointed look.

“So, you’d rather a speech then? Something moving about how we’re all in this together, dragons and humans, brothers and sisters in arms. That sort of thing?”

Regina laughed. “I’m going to say yes, just so I can see the reactions of the Rockforts and their ilk when you walk into the Chambers.”

“Deal.”

Regina leaned back in her chair, relaxed and contented. Maleficent’s plate was empty, and Regina realised she did not want this conversation to come to an end.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I think I may have had quite enough alcohol tonight.”

“This is cider - some of my own brew.”

“Oh, well. In that case. A glass couldn’t hurt.”

 

They moved to the front room, the first room a visitor would reach as they came through the door. Regina brought out some glasses and filled them from a decanter in the cabinet. Maleficent prowled around the room, exploring it as she had done the kitchen, pausing before things that interested her, but not saying very much.

When Regina gave her a glass, Maleficent took a cautious sip of the cider, sighed happily, and took a second, deeper draught. Grinning, Regina patted her arm, then leaving Maleficent to continue wandering around the room, settled into her regular armchair. 

Maleficent soon discovered that while this was a cosy room, with comfortable furniture, it had fewer personal touches than the kitchen. The art on the walls were very well made abstracts or landscapes; there were a handful of family pictures on display, posed and formal, Regina looking directly at the viewer as though in challenge, her hand on Henry’s shoulder. There was little sign of wear on the furniture. The books were neatly lined up on the shelves, with only one that looked like it was out of its regular place - lying on a small table by the armchair where Regina sat. This was a room for company; the kitchen was where this family kept its heart.

“Did you know?” Regina asked, breaking into the companionable silence that had grown between them. “About Belle. How Zelena feels about her?”

“She’s never said. But it’s not difficult to see.”

“Ah.”

“Not difficult for someone who works with them both,” Maleficent hurriedly added when she noted Regina’s crestfallen tone. “I see them both so often, it’s hard to miss how Zelena reacts when she sees Belle coming.”

Regina nodded, looking a little appeased.

“I wouldn’t have thought that she’d attack her family though,” Maleficent mused.

“Zelena has always been rather…impulsive with her passions,” Regina told her. “If she cares for someone, she will risk everything for them.”

If Maleficent thought that this was obviously a family trait, she kept the words to herself. Instead, she said, “Belle would be good for her. A calming influence.”

“Is there something there, do you think? Does Belle reciprocate?”  There was a hopeful protectiveness in her voice.

“Whatever she may feel, I do not think Belle is aware of Zelena’s feelings,” Maleficent said truthfully. 

Regina sighed and sipped glumly at her cider.

Maleficent kept a watchful eye on her, but then was distracted by a picture on a mantle - tucked away behind a larger image of a woman she assumed to be the infamous Cora Mills. The smaller image was of a young girl, with long dark hair, neatly braided, and a round-skulled cap on her head. She sat astride a horse, beaming proudly at the viewer. A dignified-looking man stood next to her; he was not tall, rather portly, with white hair; but he had a kind look about him, and the smile on the girl’s face was mirrored almost identically on his.

“You?” Maleficent asked, although she did not need the confirmation. Regina’s smile had not changed, nor had that sparkle in her eye.

“Hmm. At the cross-country course. At the Birthday Celebrations. I was fourteen.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

“You have his smile. And his eyes.” She glanced back at Regina.

Regina gave her a wan smile.

“Thank you.”

Maleficent looked back at the pictures on display, frowning a little. She could see the sisters’ determination in Cora’s face, as well as the imperious lines of their beauty. But Regina’s softness - the heartfelt pleasure in her smile and the gentle eyes - that came from her father.

“Zelena doesn’t look much like him,” Maleficent mused.

“Oh. Has she never said- We don’t share a father.”

“Ah. That would explain the hair, I suppose.”

“Mother…well, one of her husbands was for love. The other for power.”

“Your father was for love?” Maleficent asked.

Regina made a stuttering noise - half gulping laughter, half derisive snort.

“No. He was power.”

Something was making Maleficent bold tonight. Perhaps it was the alcohol still swimming along her veins. Or the confidence that came from being allowed these glimpses into Regina’s home and past. She watched her, sitting stiffly in her chair, her eyes unfocused. There was a pain there that Regina was making no effort to hide. She sought to understand it. 

“You never speak of him.”

“He died.” Regina’s voice was small, shaken. She cleared her throat and added, speaking more clearly. “Soon after that was taken. Heart attack.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Mother always did say he had a weak heart.” Her tone was bitter.

“My sire wants nothing to do with me.” 

Maleficent was surprised when the words left her mouth. She hadn’t intended to share that piece of information, but Regina’s pain demanded a response. “I suppose it is no great loss.”

Regina grinned ruefully at her and raised her glass.

“To absent fathers.”

Maleficent raised her glass in return.

“For good or ill.”

She came closer, sat on the couch nearest to Regina, and leaned forward.

“He was a good man, your father.”

“You speak like you knew him.”

“I know his daughter.”

Regina gulped back a sob. “You think you see him in me? Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see my mother.”

“We are complicated beings,” Maleficent allowed. “My dam…she…well, she did not send me away when I went in search of her. But she did not welcome me to her nest either. And my sire drove me away from his. Yet, I think I carry some of each of them in me. My sire – I watched him hunt. He owned the skies, full of fury and fire. And my dam is wily and wise. Other dragons seek her out, to learn from her.”

Regina smiled. “That does sound like you.”

“Hmm. And someday, your son will say ‘I got my heart from my mother. And my fire too’.”

Regina’s laugh bubbled out of her though her eyes shone with tears.

“You make me sound like a dragon.”

“That is because you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * there is not actually going to be an elephant. that is a Pratchett reference.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're dealing with the fall-out of the night before, a good breakfast helps.

When Zelena woke, a faint light suffused her room, making the various shades of green in the carpets and curtains glow. On a normal day, she loved the sunrise; loved watching the colours come back into the world, and thinking about all the adventures the day ahead of her could hold. 

This was however, not a normal day.

She sat up in bed and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Despite everything she’d drunk last night, she did not feel ill or achy. There was nothing to distract her from remembering Belle’s face when she’d insulted her father and challenged her sister to a duel. She’d seen horror and fear there, but her anger had been burning as bright as her hair, and she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out at these people who had hurt Belle; she couldn’t stop to think that ‘these people’ were Belle’s family, and she was the sort of woman who would make allowances for family. Especially when an outsider was attacking them.

She groaned. 

Belle was right. She was an idiot.

She crawled out of bed and searched through the neatly folded stack of her discarded belongings that Regina had left on the chair. Her crystal was still there, tucked safely into the little bag she’d been carrying last night. She sighed. No excuses then.

She pressed her fingers into the crystal, bringing it to life as it responded to her touch, found Belle’s signature, and sent the request for connection.

Belle’s face came into focus, eyes heavy with sleep.

“h’lo?” she mumbled.

“I woke you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Zelena.” Her voice was warm and soft and Zelena felt her heart tighten in her chest. “Are you all right?”

 “Yes. And Jeanne, is she…has she recovered?”

Belle gave her a sleepy smile. 

“Yes. It didn’t take very much to cure her. You were pulling your punches.”

Zelena sighed. “I wanted to humiliate her. Not to hurt or disfigure.”

“Well, you succeeded.” 

The image in the crystal tilted sharply as Belle sat up.

“She was most upset. And Marie. They spent half the night spitting vitriol about you.”

“I’m sure they didn’t have to repeat themselves at all,” Zelena said drily.

“What possessed you, Zelena? To do something so…so…”

“Stupid?” She shrugged. “They hurt you. I could see that. I don’t like it when…my friends…are hurt.”

“They’ve always been like that,” Belle said softly, as though she were speaking to herself rather than to Zelena. “It’s just their way.”

“I’m sorry,” Zelena said, squaring her shoulders as she did so. “I shouldn’t have done - or said - what I did. It wasn’t my place. And I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you and your family.” She paused, considering her words, and thinking about how dismissive Belle’s family had been, and how she had seemed to shrink into herself as her sister had spoken. “In honesty though, I think Jeanne deserved it.”

Belle’s mouth moved just enough to suggest a smile, a sad, wry curve. 

“You’re a good friend, Zelena. Impulsive. But your heart’s in the right place.”

For one wild moment, Zelena thought about all the things she could say in response to that. ‘The right place is with you’, or ‘I don’t want to be your  _friend’_ , or ‘if I  _were_  impulsive, you’d know how I feel about you by now’.

But by the time all the words in her head had quieted down enough to let her think, Belle had moved on to a different topic.

“Marie remembers what happened at the Birthday Celebrations. What got Madam Lucas’s banned.”

“Ohhhh,” Zelena’s groan was a drawn out sound of despair. “Of  _course_  she does.”

“Did you really get drunk and nearly crash into the the royal dais?”

“That’s how it was reported.”

“But that’s not what happened?”

“What does Marie say? I assume she was at the Celebrations that day.”

“She was. She said you flashed the King!”

Zelena sighed. There was no point in denying it. 

“I did. Gave him an eyeful.”

“Zelena!” Belle was giggling, a hand held to her mouth in a futile effort to keep the bubbling sounds of her amusement from spilling into their conversation.

“It was not my finest moment,” Zelena admitted, her voice flat.

Belle frowned.

“It doesn’t really sound like something you’d do. Not without a reason. Had he upset you? Or someone you-“

“You’re too young to know what he was like,” Zelena interrupted. “Your sisters may remember, but I doubt they’d….” She broke off and took a deep breath. “Leopold wanted a wife. He was looking for a particular _kind_ of woman. Or girl, to be more accurate. Eva was a young bride. His tastes didn’t change much after she died.”

“Ah.” Belle’s voice was quiet.

“Oh, _I_ never caught his fancy,” Zelena corrected her. “He liked brunettes. But Dottie. Dottie was right up his alley.”

“Dottie is a friend?”

Zelena nodded. “She was in the year above me. And then Leopold noticed her, at the Birthday Celebrations. Made her life a misery – summons to the palace to perform for him, a parade of gifts for her father and mother, invitations to balls and hunts. She couldn’t take it anymore. She left. Disappeared. I never did find out where she went.”

“You wanted to hurt him.”

“I was eighteen. I don’t know _what_ I wanted, Belle. Other than to see my friend again.”

“You dive-bombed the dais,” Belle said, her voice a tone of wonderment. “And the King’s warlocks didn’t strike you dead.”

“Oh, they blasted me out of the sky,” Zelena told her. “I was lucky. Just a few scars on my back to show for it. Spent some days in prison. Then they released me. Must’ve worked out I was just an idiotic school girl. No real threat to the King.”

“Zelena,” Bella said softly.

Zelena waved her off before Belle could say anything else, anything that may release the tears that were pricking dangerously in her eyes.

“That’s all water under the bridge now,” she said, with a wide smile. “Are _we_ okay? About last night? Am I forgiven?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

“Good. Good. Thank you. And don’t worry. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Zelena-“

“I should let you get back to sleep. I promised Harry breakfast.”

“Ah. Okay. We can talk, at school?”

“Yes. Yes. Look forward to it.”

 

 

Regina heard footsteps on the stairs, and stuck her head out of the kitchen, wondering why Henry was already awake. She was even more surprised to see her sister rather than her son. Zelena had obviously showered, and changed into fresh clothes.

“What are you doing up? I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

“I promised Harry pancakes.”

“You remembered.”

“Oh, I take my pancakes very seriously.”

Regina rolled her eyes at that.

“How do you feel?”

“Excellent. Like a sparking wand. Raring to go.”

“Very well,” Regina responded, allowing her sister to pass on having a deep conversation before their first cup of coffee. “Let’s get started on these pancakes.”

When she entered the kitchen, Zelena found all the ingredients had already been laid out – Regina had even remembered the lemons and fine sugar. She began to make the batter, very carefully breaking eggs and measuring out flour and milk. Regina moved more quickly and efficiently around the kitchen, putting the water on to boil for coffee, chopping a bowl of fruit into even pieces, and setting strips of thick bacon to sizzle in a pan (not a traditional accompaniment, but she knew both Zelena and Henry would ask for it).

They worked in companionable silence; this was not the first time Zelena had made breakfast in this kitchen, and while she was not quite as adept at hand cooking as Regina, she was able to manage this particular meal well enough.

Armed with a spatula, Zelena poured the batter into a wide thin pan, while Regina filled their cups with strong coffee, heavy with cream and sugar.

Zelena sipped, sighed gratefully, and said, “I spoke to Belle. On the crystal.”

“Good.”

“I apologised.”

“Even better. Is she all right?”

Zelena shrugged. “She said she was worried about me.”

“That’s nice of her. And her sister?”

“She’s fine. It really wasn’t a very thorough hex. Just a prank, really.”

“Did you challenge her, or are we to expect the warlocks at our door?”

“It was a challenge, Regina. Fair and square. She is just  _incredibly_  slow.”

“Did you tell Belle? The rest of it. That you care for her.”

Zelena laughed bitterly.

“Of course not.”

“Zelena, if she doesn’t know-“

“She found out, about how I attacked Leopold, and got Madam Lucas’s banned.”

“Technically, you didn’t attack-“

“I don’t think the technicalities matter too much, Regina. She sounded utterly…I mean, she _laughed_ at me.” She sighed deeply. “Who can blame her. I was such a screw up back then.”

Regina patted her arm gently.

“Oh hush. You were passionate, and possibly a little too hot-headed. But never a screw up.”

“I was a beast,” Zelena said glumly, as she carefully flipped a large pancake from the pan onto a plate. “Stomping around, destroying everything.”

“I’m sure that’s not how Belle sees you!”

“She said I was a good friend. A friend.” She sighed. “Ah well. If that’s what it is to be - it is possibly more than I deserve.”

“Zelena, that is not fair.”

“Did Maleficent stay long last night?” Zelena asked, not trying to be subtle about the deflection.

Regina sighed, and poured Zelena a second cup of coffee.

“She stayed a while. We talked. Nothing more.”

“Did you _want_ more?”

“She’s a dragon, Zelena.”

“So what?!”

“So…she’s a creature of air and fire. I’ve seen her…” The memory of the painting Maleficent kept so centrally displayed in her home burned in her mind. “She craves _freedom_ , Zelena. The wide skies, the open country. Not...not this.” She waved an arm, taking in the kitchen; the steady furniture, the dishes piled with food, the years’ worth of childhood drawings on display. “This _domesticity._ What would a dragon want with this? With a single mother and an eleven-year-old boy.”

“You do want more,” Zelena said, her voice hushed. She laughed bitterly. “Ah, we’re a pair, aren’t we, sister dear? Pity you aren’t keen on Belle, and me Maleficent. It’d make more sense – you with the gentle librarian, me with the fiery dragon.”

Regina sighed. There was more than a little truth in what Zelena was saying. A pity that matters of the heart did not follow any logic, or neat little expectations of narrative. Belle French would probably have something profound to say about it being foolhardy to search for narrative coherence and causality in life, backed up with at least three obscure references. While Maleficent…Regina could see her sardonic smile and hear the sarcastic timbre of her voice as she said something like ‘shake life between your jaws until it gives you what you want’.

Any further conversation had to be cut short as Henry came into the kitchen, still a little grumpy with sleep and moving heavily. He looked like this every morning though, and Regina kissed the top of his head as he mumbled a good morning, then flung himself into a chair at the table.

“Harry!” Zelena cried enthusiastically. “Did you sleep okay? My snoring didn’t disturb you too terribly much?”

“Barely knew you were there,” Henry replied with a yawn.

He perked up a bit when Regina placed a loaded plate in front of him; he didn’t get any coffee though, just a cup of spiced hot chocolate which Zelena stole sips from when he was distracted by the bacon.

“How did the vote go?” he asked, when the food had made him a little more alert. “Did we win?”

“Sorry, darling. No. It went against us.”

“But…how?” he spluttered. “What’s wrong with people?!”

Zelena shrugged. “Some people are thick as two-“

“Zelena,” Regina said warningly. She turned to face Henry. “A lot of the Council didn’t see how changing the law would make any difference to our lives. So they didn’t care enough to vote to remove it. They were more worried with how much it would cost to re-print all our books and documents.”

“Asses,” Zelena muttered. “A little burst of magic would take care of it.“

“It is a bit more complicated than that,” Regina admitted, her face clouding over.

“You’re not giving up?” Henry demanded, his voice rising in shock.

“No, darling. Of course not. We will need to re-group, re-think our strategy. I’ll look over the budget again-“

“But, if the council people just knew how awesome Madam LeFey is, they wouldn’t care about budgets and printing, Mum! Did you tell them? How cool she is?”

“Henry, it’s not that I don’t think Madam LeFey is ‘awesome’.” She ignored Zelena’s amused snort. “But you and I know her in a different way than the Council does. And unless every one of them joins your flying class, we’re going to have to think of another way to show them why they need to change their vote.”

Henry subsided a little, slumping back in his chair.

“You have an idea how to do that, right, Mum?”

“Of course, darling. We’re not giving up. None of us are.”

Henry nodded; there was a thoughtful look on his face.

“Are there any more pancakes?”

“Yes. Your aunt made enough to feed an army!”

Zelena clutched at her chest as though affronted. “Well, excuse me for thinking that you may want to send some to Maleficent.”

Regina froze in the act of serving out more food onto Henry’s plate and glared at her sister over her shoulder.

“What? You don’t think she’d enjoy it?” Zelena asked innocently.

“Everyone loves bacon,” Henry agreed.

Regina sighed and handed him his plate.

“Finish your breakfast. Both of you. Or you’ll be late to school.”

Zelena _had_ made such a giant stack of pancakes that there were lots of leftovers. A shame to let those all go to waste. She portioned out a healthy serving into one of the containers she used to pack Henry’s lunch – the powersaving ones that were designed to keep food warm or cold. She placed this container by Zelena’s plate with no comment, choosing to ignore her sister’s wide, knowing smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some difficult, but necessary, conversations. And the Mills sisters have more in common than they think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a ridiculously short time since the last update, but this one was demanding to be posted. There's not a lot of fluff in here, but it's things that had to be said, and it leads us to the birthday party next. So, best to do the painful stuff now, then we can get to the cake!

 

Zelena wandered out onto the playing fields later that day, seeking some sun and quiet. She noticed Maleficent sitting on a bench, looking out over the empty grounds; she had the container Zelena had left on her desk with her and was idly chewing on a piece of bacon.

“Company okay?” Zelena asked when she drew close enough.

Maleficent nodded. “Hmm. Thank you for breakfast by the way.”

“Regina was happy to send it along,” Zelena said with a small smile, as she sat down.

Maleficent sighed.

“Well, that sounded miserable.”

“I know you think your sister and I…that we should be…”

“Shaking out the sheets? Paying homage to Venus? Riding the dragon?”

Maleficent stared at her. It was not like Zelena to sound quite this acerbic.

“Hey, you’re the one being all coy and honourable about this. I’m just getting into the spirit of the thing,” Zelena said.

“’Riding the dragon’ is a bit too obvious, then. Is it not?”

“I don’t make up the slang, my dear. I just repeat it.”

Maleficent sighed, even deeper.

“If this was only about sex, Zelena. Then perhaps.” She groaned. “I’m a dragon.”

“Yes. I don’t think Regina hasn’t noticed.”

“She doesn’t need the complications being with someone like me will bring her.”

“What are you-“

“She’s a public figure. Fighting a very public battle to change how people feel about creatures like me. She was once married to the King. She left the Palace in disgrace. Yet she has managed to rise to a position of responsibility and honour. She’s raising a son…Henry…”

She groaned again.

“She needs someone who will be a support, Zelena. Someone who can _share_ her burdens. Not increase them.”

Now it was Zelena’s turn to stare.

“You think you’re going to be a burden to her.”

Maleficent stood and started pacing.

“What use am I to her? I’m a polarising figure. I’d draw nothing but negative attention to her. She has built a home…such a home…why would she want me stomping around in their lives? Making things more difficult. Of course I’ll be a burden. What else am I to think?”

“That you’re both idiots?”

“Zelena-“

“No, really. You incredibly stubborn _blind_ creatures! She’s worried that she’s not good enough for you! You’re worried that you’re not good enough for her! You’re both sitting there being miserable and driving me _completely_ batty!”

She leaped to her feet and stepped up to Maleficent, her face twisted by a sudden fury. She grabbed Maleficent by the shoulders, keeping her from moving away, and snarled into her face.

“ _Talk_ to her! _Tell_ her what you just told me! Tell her you think that you will be nothing but a burden to her. Tell her that you don’t want to … to … spend your evenings in that blasted kitchen of hers, with her son, being all _domestic_ with her!”

“Zelena-“

But Maleficent failed to stem the barrage of words. There were tears coursing down Zelena’s face, but she would not stop. Her voice rose loud, and impassioned.

“I dare you, Maleficent. You think you’re so brave and dangerous and you’ve taken all these risks with your life! But you won’t do this? You won’t say to my sister: _I want to take a chance. Will you have me?_ Why are you being such a _coward?!”_

She had to stop then; she was sobbing. She clung to Maleficent, trying to catch her breath, to slow the gulping, wracking weeping.

_“Tell_ her. Please. Before it’s too late.”

“Why are you- What has happened? Is Regina-”

“Belle is leaving.”

“What?”

“She’s leaving. She’s just told us. Her father’s ill. And she’s leaving.”

“Belle is not a healer.”

That made Zelena laugh, a wheezing sound as her body still shook with crying.

“Her useless sisters. They say they can’t possibly take care of him and the family affairs all by themselves. So Belle is going to go home. Because that’s just the sort of woman she is. She’s generous and kind and wonderful. And I am too much of a coward to tell her.”

“Oh, Zelena.”

“Don’t. Don’t you _dare_ pity me. Not when you are doing the exact same thing. Not when I _know_ my sister feels the same way-“

“Stop.”

“No. You’re an idiot. But if you hurt her – if you let her go the rest of her life thinking that she’s not good enough. That you don’t want her. I swear by all the Furies, Maleficent. I _will_ end you.”

Maleficent put her arms around Zelena, and hugged her.

“She will come back, Zelena. Her father will not be ill forever. She’ll come home. You can be brave then.”

“And you? What are you waiting for?”

Maleficent sighed.

“Apparently, a kick in the rear end.”

  

 ***

 

It was late afternoon before Regina was able to leave her office and head to the school. Henry would still be in his Mathemagics class, but she wasn’t here to pick up him – not yet. She wanted a word with Belle French. She found her in her office, a little room tucked away inside the main library. Belle always looked right at home surrounded by the thousands of books that filled the shelves around her.

Today however, it was obvious that she had been crying, and her usual cheerful demeanour was absent. Belle’s office was awash with books – they littered the table and the chairs – and she was sorting through them, packing them into three boxes that sat on her desk.

“Ms. French,” Regina said, when she’d stood in the doorway unnoticed for a few moments. _“_ Forgive me for dropping in on you unannounced.”

Belle looked up from her labours and gave Regina a wan smile.

“You don’t have to apologise Ms. Mills. I’m happy for the distraction. What can I do for you?”

“I understand you’re leaving us?”

Belle gave a startled bark of laughter. “News _does_ travel fast. I only informed Madam Lucas this morning!”

“Yes. Well. It’s a small school. Henry sent me me a missive at lunch.” She didn’t mention that Maleficent had also called her, or that she’d had a brief conversation with a tearful Zelena.

“Oh. Oh, is he all right, Regina? I haven’t had a chance to tell him or Alan in person yet.”

“He was upset,” Regina said with a shrug. “He will miss you.”

Belle sighed. “And I’ll miss him. And his entire class, of course.”

“Of course,” Regina said with a smile. She understood about not playing favourites. “That is the reason I am here though. I wanted to clear something with you.”

“Oh, okay. Please sit.” She seemed to notice for the first time that all the flat spaces were taken up by books and started hastily rearranging the piles. “Sorry, I’m trying to get everything packed up for sending before I leave. And I have to make sure my planning is up to date. Madam Mead is a very competent teacher and I’m sure I’m leaving my students in good hands, but I just want to be sure everything will be all right when I’m not here.“

Regina moved forward to help the flustered librarian move books until they had cleared enough of a space for them both to sit, Belle perched on the edge of the desk, Regina in a deep armchair covered in cracked leather.

“It’s about you not being here – that’s what I wanted to talk about,” Regina said, when they were both as comfortable as they were going to get. “Henry said that he would like to ask for your personal crystal signature, so that he could speak to you. After you’ve left. As you say, I’m sure Ms. Mead is very competent, but Henry…well, he says he’d like very much to stay in touch with you.”

“Oh,” Belle said, surprised.

“Yes. And I wanted to let you know that I support his request. If that was going to be an issue for you – he has my permission and approval. As long as you are comfortable sharing your signature with him, of course!”

“Oh, I have no problem with that, Regina. I _love_ hearing Henry’s ideas. He is _so_ creative. And he’s a very thoughtful young man. I trust him with my signature, of course I do! I’ll be happy to keep talking with him.”

Regina beamed. “Thank you, Belle. He really will miss you. He was upset you’ll miss his birthday dinner now.”

“As am I,” Belle said despondently. “He’s been talking up your cake for days.”

Regina laughed. “We’ll have to send you some. And thank you again. Henry will be thrilled to not lose contact with you.”

Belle smiled ruefully. “It’s nice to know at least one person will miss me.”

Regina frowned. “It’s not like you to be so pessimistic.”

“Forgive me. You’re right. It’s just … Zelena … I thought we were friends, but every time I try to say good bye to her, she just says something flippant or dismissive. And I shouldn’t be complaining to you about this, I know. But I thought we got along really well, and I’m going to miss her but she won’t even say goodbye, and I’m not so sure-“

“Belle.” Regina held up a hand, cutting off the flow of the librarian’s lament. “Let me tell you something about my sister.”

Regina looked indecisive for a moment as she wrestled with her conscience – should she betray Zelena’s express wishes to not reveal her feelings to Belle or not? Perhaps there was a middle ground to be struck.

“I don’t know if you know this, but Zelena didn’t come to live with mother and me until I was about five.”

Belle shook her head, leaning forward with her eagerness to learn more.

“We were not kind to each other. I was not accustomed to sharing. And Zelena, well, she was missing her home and she was lonely. I can see that now. But back then, all I saw was this strange creature who had suddenly materialised in our lives, bringing nothing but ruin and chaos with her.”

Belle giggled.

“Oh, you can laugh now, but it was terrible,” Regina said with a wry smile. “She would get through her meals so quickly, she’d have eaten all the little round cakes that were my favourite before I’d even finished my salad. She was so much faster and stronger than me, when she stole my dolls and ran away, I could never catch her before she’d flung them up into a tree. Then she’d only climb up to rescue them after I’d cried for hours. She took so long in the bath, there was hardly any time for me to brush my hair out before it was time for bed. And she would read – she’d have the light on all night, as she read page after page of the _most_ inappropriate books.”

Regina heaved a sigh.

“Oh, she was a terrible terrible blight on my existence. So I went and told Mother. Not Father, because it was obvious that he had even less control over Zelena than I did. She didn’t come to love him until much later. But surely, she’d listen to Mother. So I told Mother all about it, all about the injustices and injuries. And she said to me – ‘you’d better learn to stand up for yourself, Regina. Fight your own battles. No one else is going to do it for you’.”

“That was…a little harsh,” Belle said carefully.

“Mother wanted her daughters to be strong,” Regina said with a shrug. “Anyway. I heard what she said. It didn’t help with Zelena, because she was bigger and stronger, and that seemed to be the only language she understood – strength and power. Then one day, at school, Billy Bludger decided he wanted something of mine. He’d do this sort of thing, pick a target and torment them until he made them cry. That day, it was my turn. He pulled my hair and pinched my cheek and took my new pencil case. I remembered what my mother said. And I stood up, all three feet of me. I think I was going to punch him in the nose. I knew I’d probably be expelled, but Mother had said ‘fight your own battles’, and that was what I had decided to do. I made a fist, and was just about to swing, when out of nowhere, Zelena flung herself on Billy. She had him on the ground, and she was just whaling into him. It took two teachers to get her off him. She was suspended, of course, and Mother made her go without supper.”

“That sounds so like Zelena,” Belle said, wistfully.

Regina smiled. “I managed to smuggle some food up to our room that night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how surprised she looked when I gave it to her. I asked her why she did it. Why she’d taken on Billy when she knew she’d get in trouble. When it hadn’t been her fight. She just shrugged and said ‘Punishment don’t scare me. And you’re my sister. No one messes with you.’”

Belle laughed, but there were tears in her eyes.

“She’s never really changed,” Regina continued. “She’ll tease and she’ll hide what she’s feeling behind jokes and flippancy. But if you’re lucky enough to be loved by her, you will never find anyone more loyal or willing to fight for you.”

Belle shook her head. “So you’re saying I should find someone to pull my hair and bring out Zelena’s protective side, before she’ll talk to me?”

Regina sighed and patted Belle’s knee. “Just talk to her Belle. Get her somewhere she can’t run away, and _talk_ to her. Tell her you’ll miss her. See what happens then.”

 

*** 

 

Belle found Zelena checking inventory in one of the storage rooms. She didn’t usually do such clerical tasks, so Belle was fairly sure Zelena was just finding excuses to not be in her office; she didn’t feel any guilt in interrupting.

Zelena looked a little panicked to find herself with a wall behind her and Belle between her and the door.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Belle said in the most placating voice she could manage. She didn’t come any closer, leaving several feet between her and Zelena.

“What?” Zelena asked warily.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m going to miss you, Zelena.”

Zelena deflated. “Then don’t go,” she said glumly.

Belle sighed. “I wish I could stay. I do. But I have to take care of my family. I will come back though. I promise.”

“Do you?” She still sounded glum.

“Zelena, I’m not leaving Storybrooke, or Madam Lucas’s school, forever. I am happy here. I will come back. But I have to do this. Please understand. My family needs me.”

“You sound like Regina,” Zelena said. She sighed. “Family first, huh?”

“Only until my father is better.”

“You won’t forget us?”

“Of course not! How could I?!”

“And you’ll write? Call?”

Belle smiled. “Henry has asked me for my personal signature. You _already_ have it. You can call and write me whenever you like.”

“Yes. I could. Will you do the same?”

“Do you want me to?”

Zelena sighed. “Yes. I do. I…I’m going to miss you, Belle. It won’t be the same without you here.”

“Good,” Belle said decisively. “Then there’ll still be a place for me when I get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how much fun it was coming up with euphemisms for sex? :D :D I wish I had remembered to take note of what didn't make the cut!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No admission except on party business.

 

Regina felt the now-familiar push of Maleficent’s magic against the house wards. Surprise washed through her. The party wasn’t due to start for at least five more hours. She lifted the wards as she made her way to the front door, hoping that nothing was wrong.

Maleficent stood at her door, even taller and more regal-looking than usual in her heeled boots and with her hair framing her face in a sleek fall of gold. Under the heavy leather greatcoat she wore a prettily patterned shirt and soft dark trousers. She looked steady and strong and imperious. But Regina knew the dragon well enough now to see the nervousness in the narrowing of her eyes and the faint firmness of her mouth.

Regina smiled.

“I’m early,” Maleficent said.

“No, no, you’re fine.”

“I’m early on purpose.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you may perhaps need some help. With the preparations.”

“Oh, that’s very kind.”

“Was I mistaken? Do you want me to go and come back later?”

Regina realised that she’d made no move to welcome her visitor into her home.

“I should have called ahead,” Maleficent was saying. “I’ll lea-“

“Come inside! Please. I’m sorry. I just…I wasn’t expecting...help.”

“Is Zelena not here?” Maleficent asked as she crossed over the threshold. Regina now noticed she was clutching a paper bag in both hands; it was small, deep purple with woven twine for handles, and Maleficent was holding it before her as though it was a shield.

“Zelena will show up just before three, drink a cup of the adult punch, and then proceed to pull rabbits out of hats and other completely ridiculous tricks until it is time for cake.”

“Adult punch?”

“It has rum in it. You look like you could do with some right now.”

“I’m sorry. Is it obvious? I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“I don’t either,” Regina said, honestly. “It’s just us. You know most of the children from school. Henry adores you, and will very likely spend the entire afternoon begging you to tell stories if you let him.”

“Is that allowed? At birthday parties? I asked Zelena about the rules, but she just laughed and said ‘be sure to kiss your hostess hello’.”

“That is not a rule.”

“I figured.”

“There _are_ no rules, Maleficent. Just, have fun. And if you aren’t enjoying yourself, it is perfectly all right for you to leave.”

“Belle said gifts were customary.”

“Customary, but not necessary.”

“Oh. I brought one.”

“So I see. That’s very kind. I’m sure Henry will be thrilled.”

They’d made it as far as the kitchen now, and Maleficent seemed to relax as soon as they were inside that room.

Regina squeezed her hand comfortingly, and called for Henry. He came thundering down the stairs.

“Are we getting started already? Can we wait a little while? I’m in the middle of journaling.”

“We have a guest.”

“Oh. Madam LeFey! You’re early!”

“I know. I thought I could help.”

“Awesome! Are you good at blowing up balloons?”

“I have strong lungs.”

“Cool.”

“Henry,” his mother said gently. “Her coat.”

“Oh right. Sorry, Mum.” He cleared his throat. “May I take your coat, Madam LeFey?”

Maleficent’s smile was the most genuine one she’d produced since Regina opened the door to her.

“My, what a gentleman you are Master Mills.”

She placed the purple bag on the table, shrugged off her coat and handed it over.

Henry sagged a little under the weight of the leather, but gamely hauled the coat back down the hall to hang it up in the cupboard by the front door.

“He will have the best manners in Year 7,” Maleficent said to Regina with a teasing smile.

“That is not the highest of bars to set,” Regina snarked right back.

Maleficent laughed, the last of the tension leaving her.

When Henry came back into the kitchen, Maleficent handed him the gift bag.

“For you, Henry. A token to mark the day of your birth.”

“Thank you. May I open it?”

Maleficent looked to Regina for an answer.

“There’s no reason he shouldn’t. Unless you don’t want to be there when he opens it?”

“Oh. No I think I would. I’m curious to see what you think of it, Henry.”

He smiled a wide, happy smile up at her, and ripped into the little bag.

He pulled out a chunk of brass, as large as his fist. It had been beaten flat and etched with a curly script, and set with a deep red stone. It hung off a thin chain, and Henry held it up to the light to examine it more closely.

“Cool! What is it?”

“An amulet I found in the ruins of the Ait of Haddou. In the desert sands many days’ flight from Agrabah.”

“Does it have a genie?” Henry asked, excitedly rubbing the amulet with his sleeve.

Maleficent laughed. “No. No. There is no magic in this amulet. Well, not that kind of magic. This was how the caravan masters found their way. These markings are a map. If you know the story of these maps, you would never be lost, no matter where in the desert you were. It still works today.”

“Really?”

“Hmm. I navigated my way back to safety, using only this.”

“Can I wear it?”

“Of course. But keep it against your skin. It must be protected from the wearing of the sand.”

“There’s no sand in Storybrooke!” Henry laughed. But he put the chain around his neck, and tucked the the amulet under his shirt.

Then he gave Maleficent an awkward hug.

“Thank you, Madam LeFey.”

She looked startled for a moment, then smiled.

“I think it may be all right for you to call me Maleficent,” she said, with a look towards Regina. “At least, in your home. If your mother permits?”

“Think you can manage that, Henry? No slip-ups at school?”

“Yes, Mum.” He beamed. “Thank you, Maleficent.” He sounded so proud when he said her name, both women laughed in delight.

“Go on and finish your journal,” Regina said. “I’ll call you when it’s time for the fish.”

“That piece belongs in a museum,” Regina said, when Henry had gone bounding back upstairs. “It is in such good condition. Are you sure it’s all right, for him to have it?”

“It was gifted to me. By a grateful princess.”

“Hmm. So you were lost in the desert _and_ you saved a princess. What a fascinating life you’ve led, Madam LeFey.”

“I didn’t say I saved the princess,” Maleficent pointed out, with a wicked grin and a jaunty waggle of her eyebrows.

Regina stared at her for a moment, then started to laugh. “Oh my word. I cannot wait to get you and Zelena in the same room. Although I fear the stories you’ll tell will turn my hair white!”

“That would not be an unattractive look on you,” Maleficent mused.

“Balloons!” Regina said abruptly, waving her hands in defeat. “We are going to blow up some balloons. Put all that hot air in you to good use.”

 

 

They worked together on the balloons for a little while. Maleficent really did have very high functioning lungs, and they were done well before Regina thought they would be. Henry was still writing, so she set Maleficent to curling and hanging streamers.

“It is strange not to have Zelena here,” Maleficent said thoughtfully. “She is usually so involved in Henry’s life.”

Regina sighed.

“She’s at work – trying to numb herself with paperwork. But today is generally a bit different for us. Henry and I are usually alone for this part.”

“By choice,” Maleficent said, her voice small. “I am sorry.” She climbed off the step ladder she’d been balanced on. “I’ll go.”

“No. Really, Maleficent. It’s fine. It’s…better than fine. I’m glad you’re here. And Henry’s all caught up in his journal right now, but it’s obvious he enjoys having you here. He’s growing. It’s different for him now.” She sighed again. “Maybe next year, I will ask Zelena to join us earlier.”

“I struggle to understand human rituals sometimes. Agatha is patient, but werewolves are not like humans. And Zelena is more likely to make up some outrageous story just to test the limits of my belief.”

“It’s a good thing you have Belle.”

“Indeed. I will feel the lack of her presence, I’m sure. So…it’s common then, for parent and child to spend this day alone?”

“Hmm? Oh no, that’s just me and Henry. I like having just the two of us together, for a little while at least. We’ll have breakfast, and we’ll talk. Sometimes he’ll ask for the story of the day he was born. Today he wanted to hear a story about his father. The request varies, from year to year.”

“That sounds nice,” Maleficent said.

“What do dragons do? For birthdays. Do you call them birthdays?”

“The day of hatching? No. No, we don’t mark it. That day has little importance to us.”

“Do you not know the day you were…hatched?”

“Not really. I suppose I could work it out, or close enough, if I cared to. The fairies had the record of the day my dam dropped me off with them. But dragons are more likely to mark other days. The day of first flame. The day you first fly. Your first kill. That’s what is important to us.”

“Do you remember yours?”

Maleficent laughed.

“Oh, I do. I had marked more than sixteen years before I first flew. Learning to transform was hard for me. I had left the fairies, trekked out into the crags, looking for my family. My mother let me stay close enough to watch, but no closer than that. So I learned to transform by trial and error. Had to do it backwards. The first time I tried to fly, I crashed to the ground so hard I broke my wing. My arm. Took weeks before I could try again. Weeks more before I could manage more than a chicken hop.”

Regina had frozen in place as Maleficent talked. She was still curling streamers, producing waves of colour under her hands, more streamers than they could possibly use, but as long as Maleficent’s hands were occupied, she was speaking. And Regina did not think she wanted to stop speaking.

“Fire?” Regina asked. “When was your first-“

“Thirteen. Still with the fairies. Singed the eyebrows off one of them.”

“You were in human form?”

“You’ve seen me produce fire,” Maleficent looked up from the streamers to smile at Regina. “I was less controlled at thirteen.”

“Did they…were they harsh with you? I can’t imagine fairies being very kind about a fire producing child.”

“They tried to convince me I was human. All my life, until that moment, they told me I was human. Abandoned to the fairies in exchange for three wishes. Then I nearly burned one of their faces off, and I knew the truth. So I left.”

There was so much Regina wanted to ask, so much anger she wanted to express. Against the fairies who had tried to keep Maleficent from being who she truly was. Against the dragon dam and sire who had not welcomed their child back to their nests and protected her. But Maleficent was curling streamers again, so Regina asked instead,

“First kill?”

“As a human or as a dragon?”

“Ah. Is one more important than the other?”

“My first kill as a dragon was this skinny deer, too old to run very fast. Even my clumsy flying could catch up to him.”

“You’ve improved as a hunter since then?”

Maleficent’s smile was grim.

“Oh yes.”

“My first kill – I was twenty-four. An ogre attack had managed to break through the defense lines. They were on the outskirts of town. They had the warlocks pinned. I just happened to be there. Some ceremony or other. All I could think about was Henry, at home in his crib, with only Zelena to protect him. Not me. Not his mother. They say I killed three ogres. With just three fireballs. I don’t really remember very much of it. The warlocks started calling me quite regularly after that, when they ran into something they couldn’t handle by themselves.”

Maleficent laughed suddenly, the sound harsh and grating.

“I may not know much about human rituals. But I imagine this is not the sort of talk one generally has at a child’s birthday party.”

“No. It isn’t. So…shall we put it aside, for now? Can we do that?”

Maleficent looked at her thoughtfully.

“Our scars will always be part of us, Regina.”

“I know. But there is more to us than scars.”

Maleficent’s laugh was still a little rueful, but there was more gentleness to it now.

She held up the mounds of streamers, the colours spilling through her fingers.

“What do we do with all these?”

“It’s a party. We hang them. Everywhere.”

And so they did.

By the time Henry came back downstairs, the house was dripping colour from every ceiling.

 

 

It made it easier to be cheerful with Henry there.

With the house decorated, they could focus on the party food, particularly Henry’s favourite part – the cake. Or, to be more accurate, the cakes. Because Regina did nothing by half measures, particularly when it came to her son, she had planned two cakes – a sheet of white cake with a light lemony icing for the afternoon, and for later, the dense chocolate cake that Belle had been so upset about missing out on.  

Regina left Henry in charge of measuring out ingredients for the chocolate cake, and he corralled Maleficent into being his assistant. He taught her to be careful with the flour and they tried (but failed) to not end up sticky with honey. Henry was quite deliberately over-generous with the chocolate, knowing his mother would let them eat any leftovers as they melted the dark, bitter, mass into the honey.

When the batter had been poured out into tins and was safely baking in the stove, filling the kitchen with the scent of honey and vanilla and chocolate, Henry showed Maleficent why eating the raw dough right out of the bowl was the best thing ever, even if Regina pretended their manners were atrocious and swore they would make themselves ill.

Regina began chopping mounds of onion and garlic, and Henry and Maleficent fled from the kitchen, the dragon protesting the stench was worse than any troll midden. She helped Henry set up the games instead, paying careful attention when he told her the rules. There were prizes to be won, and she knew exactly who she would give all her spoils of war to. When he explained to her one of the games they would be playing was _pin the wings on the dragon_ she had at first gone very quiet, and then laughed so uproariously, Regina had poked her head out of the kitchen to see what was so funny.

They had gone back into the kitchen to help assemble the sandwiches and other party foods. Maleficent had been so careful with how she cut the crusts from the bread and divided up the fillings between the slices that she was only producing one sandwich to Henry’s three.

Henry taught her how to grate the cheese for the baked fish Regina was making for dinner. The piles of reeking onion and garlic had been cooked down to a dark mass that smelled so sweetly appetizing, Maleficent kept stealing bits to eat. Regina would slather the fish in this mixture and then smother everything in sauce and cheese and breadcrumbs and bake it into the centerpiece of the evening meal. That would be after the party, after the other guests had gone home, and only a select few would stay to eat even more food, and talk, and play more games. Maleficent had gone still when Henry had casually mentioned setting her a place at the dinner table for later, putting her next to Zelena and across from his mother. She had been so distracted she had grated the skin right off her finger.

Thankfully the cheese wasn’t completely ruined, and Regina’s thunderous look of worry had eased when she saw the damage to Maleficent wasn’t that bad. Her hands had been very gentle and soft as she cleaned the wound and wrapped a plaster around the raw skin.

Then it was five minutes to three, and Zelena arrived, dressed in a dark green tailcoat and a ridiculously tall hat. She hugged Henry, handed over his present, and chugged back a cup of the adult punch. The first guests began arriving then, and all thoughts of scars and death and loss were swept away in laughter and light and the simple joy of play.

Maleficent proved to be eerily adept at pinning the wings on the dragon. She won four rounds before anyone dared to raise the question of whether or not actually being a dragon gave her an unfair advantage in the game. Maleficent retired from the field of battle with good grace; she’d won a handful of fascinating little toys and games, operated by turning little keys or winding up stretchy bands, and an odd piece of jewelry – a necklace made of hard little candies that had a flavour both tart and sweet. Maleficent went to find Regina so she could share her spoils, but Regina had insisted that she wear the necklace herself. Maleficent nibbled on a sweet, and thought how much like Regina it was – hard exterior, sharp yet sweet, and something that Maleficent found herself wanting more and more of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Ait of Haddou - inspired by a place in this world - the fascinating village, Ait Benhaddou, in Morocco. 
> 
> Also, updates will be delayed, as I'm away for the next few weeks, with no guaranteed 'net access.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The after-party. And things get a bit stormy.

 

The dinner was a relatively quiet affair, after the excitement of the party. Most of Henry’s friends had left after a rousing game of broomstick tag in the large empty fields behind the house; Maleficent and Zelena had been an unstoppable team and claimed their gold-foil wrapped chocolate medals with great pride.

Alan and Riggs were staying for a sleepover; they had brought camping gear and the plan was for the three boys to pitch tents in the field and spend the night out there. It was the first year Regina was allowing them to do this on their own, and they were excited to test out all the equipment they’d brought.

But first they were going to have a nice dinner indoors. Alan and Riggs helped Regina and Zelena clean up the house, stripping the flowing streamers from the ceilings and helping load up the dish cleaning box. It fell to Henry and Maleficent to prepare the formal table for the evening meal; Maleficent was fascinated by all the utensils needed for just one meal, and she was surprised at how much food they laid out, but as soon as the three boys started heaping their plates, she had understood.

Regina noted Maleficent’s amused grin and leaned over to whisper,

“You don’t often eat with children?”

“No. It’s good to see though. Healthy appetites are a good sign.”

“Are you going to now say that my son reminds you of a dragon too?”

“He does,” Maleficent told her, seriously. “You have done well.”

Zelena snorted at that, just as she was taking a sip of wine, sending a wave of red splattering towards Regina.

Three hands flung up automatically, and power surged across the table. The wine froze in mid-air, and a shimmering shield appeared before Regina. Or at least, it appeared before where Regina had been seated – her chair had pushed back from the table, carrying her clear across the room.

“Woah,” Riggs said, impressed, his fork stopped half-way to his open mouth.

Regina sighed.

“Towels, Henry. Please.”

She stood and started to move her chair back to the table. Maleficent was already out of her chair and moving towards Regina. Henry ran off to the kitchen, while Zelena and the two boys started righting the table, moving dishes of food and plates out from under the frozen spray of wine.

“Are you all right?” Maleficent asked Regina.

“I’m fine.”

“I apologise, for the magic.”

“It’s okay,” Alan told her, before Regina could speak. “House rules are that magic is allowed in an emergency.”

“And destroying Ms. Mills’ favourite tablecloth is definitely an emergency,” Riggs piped up.

“Yes, _that_ was the emergency,” Regina said with a shake of her head and a wry smile. “Really Riggs.”

“Sorry, Ms. Mills,” he said, his eyes round with innocence. “Saving you from a face-full of wine too. Very emergency.”

Regina may have tried to hide her laugh, but Maleficent had no such compunction.

“This tablecloth has seen some action I take it?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” Regina drawled.

When Henry re-entered the room, the boys positioned the towels under the frozen wine, and Maleficent dropped her spell. The wine fell with a damp splash and Riggs and Alan whisked the towels away before the liquid could soak through. Regina dropped the shield she’d cast, and took her place at the table again.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Zelena asked.

“Yes. Your spell just shook me up a bit. I’m fine.”

 “That was really impressive, Madam LeFey,” Alan said, as soon as they’d resumed eating. “A freezing spell! That’s really difficult!”

Maleficent shrugged. “It comes in handy.”

“I bet no warlock could stop you,” Riggs added, his eyes wide as he contemplated the possibilities. “You could do… _any_ thing you wanted. And if they tried to come after you, you could just freeze them!”

“Riggsy,” Zelena said, “Are you implying that Madam LeFey should take up a life of crime?”

“What? No! But…she’d be so _good_ at it.”

“Unstoppable,” Maleficent agreed with a wicked glint in her eye. “Until the warlocks sent for the Mayor.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah,” Riggs deflated a little. “Henry’s mum.”

“Do you think Ms. Mills is more powerful than you are?” Alan asked curiously.

Henry smacked his arm.

“It’s a valid question!” Alan defended himself.

The wicked glint had not left Maleficent’s eye when she glanced over at Regina.

“I think Ms. Mills could quite possibly wrap me around her finger. If she wanted. Freeze spell or not.”

“Oh Merlin’s spotted _pants,”_ Zelena swore under her breath.

Regina had flushed, but there was a pleased little smile on her face.

Oblivious, Alan and Riggs were pressing on.

“Really? Is Ms. Mills _that_ powerful?”

“I know you’ve got fire magic. Can you do anything else?”

“I could drop a house on her,” Regina said conversationally.

“Nah, she’d just go dragon and bust through.”

“She could steal her heart,” Zelena said, waving her now-empty wine glass airily. “That’s always the favoured way, isn’t it?”

“Ewww,” Henry said.

“What would you do with a stinky heart?” Riggs asked.

“I couldn’t _possibly_ imagine,” Zelena said drily as she poured more wine.

“No, but really,” Alan persisted. “Who’s more powerful?”

“Ms. Mills,” Maleficent said decisively, in the same moment that Regina said “I am.”

“Well, that settles that,” Zelena said and took a deep sip of wine. “Someone pass the potatoes.”

The discussion about levels of power persisted for a while, and Regina called a halt to it when the boys started thinking up magical wagers to show which of the two women was the more powerful wielder of magic.

“Aww, but it would be fun to see if you could freeze time for a day!” Riggs said, sounding disappointed.

“It should be possible, theoretically.” Alan added.

“Just because something is possible, doesn’t mean you should do it,” Maleficent said. “I am a powerful creature in my own right. Before you even take magic into account. But that means I must be more careful in _how_ I use my power.”

“Why?” Riggs asked.

“Oh!” Henry said, “It’s like in that book I’m reading – _‘great power demands great responsibility’_. It’s a sort of agreement you make when you are powerful – if you have power, you have to use it well.”

“Very good, Henry,” Regina said softly.

“An agreement with who?” Riggs asked. “Your parents?”

“With yourself,” Maleficent answered.

“It’s no fun picking on someone weaker than you,” Zelena added. “There’s no finesse to it. You’re just being a brute and a bully if you do that.”

Regina rolled her eyes at her sister.

“That’s certainly _one_ reason to not challenge someone less adept than you to a duel.”

“So, you could freeze time if you wanted, but you won’t, because it’d be mean?”

“But what if someone made you _really_ mad?”

“Great power demands great responsibility,” Regina reminded the boys. “There’s no ‘unless someone makes you really mad’ tacked on to the end of that.”

“That’d be really hard,” Riggs said, though he looked more thoughtful than defiant. “It’d be so easy to just-“ he smacked his hand down on the table. “Pow! If someone’s being an ass-. Sorry. If someone’s being a pain.”

Maleficent glanced at Regina.

“How do you resist?” she asked.

Regina stiffened. “Oh. I’ve never really had to think about it. I’ve just…always used my magic more defensively.”

Maleficent nodded and smiled. “You use your power to protect.”

“So you wouldn’t attack?” Riggs sounded disappointed.

“Not unprovoked,” Maleficent said.

“But if someone else attacks first, no more playing nice,” Zelena said darkly. “Then you can have all the _pow!_ you want, Riggsy.”

“I think we are wandering _slightly_ off topic,” Regina cut in, as she saw the boys’ eyes widen eagerly. They’d be asking for stories of duels and battles before long, and she did not want to be drawn into a description of fighting ogres before bedtime. “Shall we have some cake?”

Thankfully pre-teen boys were easily distracted by the promise of dessert.

So, apparently, were dragons.

As the boys wolfed down their cake, still ravenous after the mounds of food they had consumed, Maleficent eyed her serving with a pleased smile. She dragged her finger through the silky icing that lay thickly on the top of her slice, and brought her finger to her mouth. She parted her lips and curled her tongue along her finger, sighing with pleasure. She went back for another pass.

Zelena kicked Regina under the table.

Regina tore her gaze away from Maleficent and stared at her sister in startled fury.

Zelena daintily patted her lips with her napkin and mouthed ‘ _you’re drooling_.’

Regina frowned and rolled her eyes.

Oblivious to the sisters’ exchange, Maleficent licked yet more icing off her finger with a long, low, satisfied hum.

Zelena started to shake with silent laughter as Regina muffled a groan and left the table, ostensibly to make some tea.

 

 

After cake, the boys moved to the front room to play a few rounds of card games; Maleficent went with them because games of strategy fascinated her. Regina and Zelena stayed in the kitchen, doing some cursory tidying up and finishing off the bottle of wine.

“This has been fun,” Zelena said, sounding a little surprised. “More than a little distracting. I wasn’t sure it’d be a good idea for me to be here.”

“Thank you for coming,” Regina said, giving her sister a hug. “It’s always good to have you here.”

Zelena sighed and leaned over enough so that her head touched Regina’s shoulder.

“I miss her.”

“Have you spoken to her?”

“Hmm. On the crystal, this morning. She’s settling in okay. She already sounds so harried though. I think her father is more ill than she realised. And her sisters are being utterly useless, of course.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Help me kidnap her and bring her back here?”

“You know I would, if I thought for even a moment that it would help.”

Zelena grinned ruefully. “You’re a good sister. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

“Oh, Zelena. Are the bad examples of Belle’s sisters making you sentimental?” Regina kissed her sister’s forehead to take any sting out of the teasing.

Zelena sighed and straightened up. “I want to move up there. I think she could do with some support close to hand – not miles away, nothing but a blurry face on a crystal.”

“She may like that,” Regina said carefully. “But perhaps check what she thinks before you move your entire life up to the mountains.”

“Yes,” Zelena said glumly. “Grand romantic gestures aren’t my style, anyway. I’d probably end up upsetting her father and causing a relapse or something.”

“You do grand romance very well,” Regina said, loyally if inaccurately. “But let Belle focus on her father for now. Don’t crowd her. Make sure she knows you’ll be there for her, but let her come to you Zelena. In her own time.”

Zelena sniffled. “Being mature is utter pants.”

“Says the woman wearing a fake medal made of chocolate,” Regina said drily.

“Hey. I _earned_ this medal. It wasn’t just given to me by a sexy dragon who thinks she has a better grasp of grand romantic gestures than I do.”

Regina’s laugh was a startled snort. “Maybe you should send Belle _your_ medal.”

“It worked?” Zelena said, aghast. “Maleficent’s damned medal worked?! _That’s_ what’s getting you to bend?!”

“No! And keep your voice down! She’s just…she’s been really sweet. She was here virtually all day, helping out, and she had fun, right – you saw her, at the party. She wasn’t…oh, what am I doing, Zelena?”

Zelena grinned. “Admitting that there’s something there? Something that’s been there all along, but you were too stubborn to acknowledge?”

“Perhaps,” Regina allowed, in a small voice.

Zelena’s whoop of victory was lost in the loud crashing sound that seemed to shake the heavens.

“What in the hells was that?”

“There was no storm forecast,” Regina said, headed towards the window. There was a second blast of sound, this time accompanied by a bright flash of light. The brightness allowed her to see the sky was a dark roil of clouds; no rain fell.

“What is this?” she muttered.

The boys crowded into the kitchen, closely followed by Maleficent.

“Isn’t it awesome?” Riggs was saying, excited.

“I’ve never seen a proper electrical storm before!” Henry’s eyes were bright. “We just had that really small one – remember, Mum?”

She nodded. “It’s not normal weather, for Storybrooke.”

The boys and Zelena gathered at the window, oohing and ahhing at every blast and rattle of the sky.

Maleficent came over to Regina.

“You’re worried,” she said.

“This is unusual. I have to wonder, if it’s…a spell. An attack of some sort.”

“It’s an electrical storm,” Maleficent assured her. “I’ve experienced lots of them, out on the borderlands. This is a powerful one, but it feels natural.”

Regina smiled gratefully up at her. “I’m just going to check in,” she said, pulling her crystal from her pocket.

She thumbed through the signatures and connected with the crystal of Major Stewart, the leader of the warlocks charged with protecting Storybrooke and its environs. The Major was an older woman, with fair hair and a strong jaw; she spoke in clipped tones.

“Mayor Mills. Are you all right?”

“Yes, Major. Do you have a report?”

“Crazy storm. Boffins have no idea what’s going on. Came out of nowhere.”

“Is Storybrooke secure?”

“We’re sending out a ‘no magic’ alert now, Ma’am. Buildings should hold up okay, but freshening your wards may not be a bad idea, if you can do it from a protected place. A direct hit could do quite a bit of damage. I’m putting teams on standby for repair details.”

“Understood. Do you need me?”

“We don’t think this is an attack, Ma’am. Just a weird weather phenomenon. I’m sending out extra patrols though, just in case.”

“I’ll be on standby too, Major.”

“It’s not safe to transport during these storms, Ma’am. Best keep your car off the road too. If we need you, we’ll come fetch you. You’re still okay on horseback?”

“I’ve not ridden in a while, but I’m sure I can manage.”

“Right. That’s fine. I’d best get on Ma’am.”

“Of course. Keep me posted, Major.”

 

As soon as Regina had ended the connection, her crystal glowed a deep red and emitted a high-pitched whine. The ear-splitting noise was repeated from every crystal in the house. Zelena and the boys turned from the window to pull their crystals out of their pockets, looking to Regina in confusion.

“Why the no-magic alert?”

“What’s going on Mum?”

“Are my mum and dad going to be okay?”

“Is it the storm?”

“It’s all right,” Regina said, thumbing the crystal to turn off the annoying noise. “Yes, it’s because of the storm.”

“Electrical storms interfere with magic,” Maleficent added. “It makes spells go all wonky. Using magic in the open is too risky right now.”

“The warlocks are asking everyone to stay indoors, strengthen protective wards from within their houses, and wait it out.”

“But my mum and dad-“

“I know Riggs,” Regina said, crossing over to the boy and putting her arms around him. “I’m sure they’re fine, darling. They’re not allowed to transport while it’s still storming. But we’ll call them, on the house crystal. It’s stronger.”

She looked up at Zelena.

“Would you call the boys’ parents please? Make sure they understand what to do? I’m going to check the house.”

Zelena nodded.

“Of course. First things first boys, let your crystal know you’ve seen the alert.”

As the boys fumbled with their crystals to make them stop emitting the alert klaxon, Regina said to Zelena, “I’ll pop over and check your house too.”

“You won’t,” Zelena replied with a frown. “That no transporting applies to you too, Regina. You stay right here.”

“But-“

“You heard Maleficent – it’s too risky for magic out there. We can worry about any damage to my place when this storm has passed.” She glared at Maleficent. “You make sure she behaves.”

“I won’t let any harm come to her,” Maleficent said solemnly.

Zelena nodded. “Right, let’s go make these calls, boys.”

When they were alone in the kitchen, Regina said tartly, “I’m not sure I like you and my sister conspiring against me.”

Maleficent grinned. “It’s hardly conspiring when we’re speaking right in front of you. Besides, I don’t need Zelena’s instructions to want to keep you from harm.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t let you off the hook.” Regina said, and swept out of the kitchen.

Maleficent stared at her retreating back for a moment, then followed her.

“I can help. I’ve had experience with warding against storms like these.”

Regina sighed and stopped walking away. She turned to face the dragon, her eyebrow arched in challenge.

“Let me help,” Maleficent repeated softly. “Please?”

Some of the fight went out of Regina’s stance. “I should stop being so stubborn,” she said. “Shouldn’t I?”

Regina had taken it on herself to be the defender of this household and her family for so long now, it was hard for her to allow anyone else but her sister to take a share of the burden from her. Zelena had been right to say that Regina’s stubbornness was keeping her from accepting that she trusted Maleficent enough to want this with her too.

“Your first instinct is to protect. I learned that about you on the day we met.” Maleficent smiled ruefully at the memory. “I understand that instinct, Regina. I do. Let me help you.”

Regina took a deep breath; as she exhaled, the final tension in her shoulders eased. She nodded. “Okay. Come and help.”

 

They checked the house, from attic to basement. “Sometimes a ground strike can come close enough to harm the foundations of a building,” Maleficent had said, when Regina would have stopped on the ground floor. “We should strengthen the wards below ground too.”

Perhaps they were taking too many precautions, anticipating too much danger, but they both found it soothing to move together through the house, with the storm crashing outside, and shore up the shields that would keep those they cared about safe.

Regina checked in with Major Stewart again. The storm still raged, and the warlocks were patrolling the borders, but everything was quiet there. The response teams had been called out to one damaged building, rescuing an old woman and her cat. There were trees down all over town, and all the street lights along Main Street had been knocked out.

“It’s not pretty, but it’s manageable,” was the Major’s final assessment. “I think you can rest easy tonight, Ma’am. We’re not likely to need you.”

“I’m still on standby, Major,” Regina replied. “I will be until this storm is over.”

When she’d ended the conversation, Maleficent said, “Would you let me stay? Tonight I mean.”

Regina was surprised into silence then said hurriedly. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking. You can’t transport home-“

“No, Regina. That’s not why. I can fly. Storms won’t harm my dragon form. And your warlocks are busy enough tonight. You don’t have to worry about me being caught breaking the law.” She grinned.

“I wouldn’t let you fly through this. I don’t care how safe you think you’ll be.”

Maleficent ignored that comment. “If the warlocks call you out tonight, it’ll be for one reason only. To help fight off an attack. You will all be vulnerable; your magic won’t work as it normally does. My dragon form will be useful.”

“Maleficent-“

“I’m volunteering to help protect Storybrooke, Regina. Are you going to turn me down?”

“You know you don’t have to do that.”

Maleficent shrugged. “It’ll send a good message too, won’t it? Dragon risking her all for a town that won’t even let her transform.”

Regina gave an exasperated laugh.

“You are sneakier than I thought, Maleficent.”

“So, I can stay tonight? And if you _are_ called out, I can bring you to wherever we need to go faster than any horse.”

“What..wait..you mean _fly_ you?”

Maleficent gave her a slow smile, filled with all sorts of promise.

“We should try it sometime. You may enjoy it.”

“We are _not_ having this conversation right now,” Regina muttered. “The others are probably wondering where we’ve got to.”

 

By the time they returned to the front room, Alan and Riggs had talked to their parents and had their worries soothed. Zelena had made them all cups of hot chocolate (leaving the rum aside for the adults to add later), and had the boys gathered on the carpet around her while she told tall tales about her adventures in Albion.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Riggs was saying, as Regina and Maleficent entered the room. “Ms. Mills, have _you_ ever seen a ghost?”

“Oh good. We’ve reached the scary part of the evening’s entertainments,” Regina said drily and threw her sister a pointed look.

Zelena grinned. “They aren’t afraid, are you boys?”

“No!” they all agreed.

And they weren’t. Zelena had drawn all the curtains, and this helped muffle the sounds of the storm and reduced the flashing of light to an intermittent dull glow. The storm was just another adventure now, something that left them feeling a thrill of excitement rather than fear.

“Nearly bedtime, boys,” Regina said. “Sorry, there’ll be no camping out tonight.”

“We can still sleep in the bags though, can’t we Mum?” Henry pleaded.

“It’ll be a squash in your room,” Regina said thoughtfully. “Three of you on the floor. Hmm. You’d best have my room, and I’ll sleep in yours.”

“We could have this room?” Henry said. “Then you don’t have to give up your bed.”

“Ahh. No. Maleficent’s staying over. She’s going to have the couch.”

“What fun,” Zelena piped up, with a far-too-innocent smile.

 

Zelena was upstairs, making sure the boys all washed up and brushed their teeth, because _‘hygiene is still important lads, even if you’re stuck out in the woods.’_

Regina was downstairs, in the front room with Maleficent. She’d brought down an armful of blankets and pillows, and they were both eyeing the couch.

“It seems a bit narrow for sleeping on,” Maleficent said, sounding worried.

“It’s all right for an afternoon nap,” Regina said. “But I’ve never spent the night on it.”

“I could-“ she waved her hands in the gesture for casting a spell. “If that won’t be breaking house rules.”

Regina grinned. “I’m sure Henry would count it as an emergency if we told him his favourite flying instructor was in danger of a cricked neck.”

“I’m well aware I’m his _only_ flying instructor,” Maleficent groused, “But I’ll take it.”

She looked thoughtfully around the room, made a parting motion with her hands, and all the furniture was suddenly moved back to line neatly along the walls. Before Regina could react, Maleficent drew her hands sharply inwards, and a bed materialised in the middle of the room.

“No transport spells!” Regina burst out.

“It’s just a bed,” Maleficent replied evenly. She was smiling fondly at the giant piece of furniture that was now dominating Regina’s front room. “My favourite one.”

It looked like the base of a giant tree had just sprouted through the carpet. It was knotted and gnarled and the bole had been hollowed out and lined with some sort of mattress, covered in a silvery material that glowed with a satiny sheen in the overhead lights. It was the most over the top piece of furniture Regina had ever seen.

“How many beds do you have?!”

“A few,” Maleficent replied smugly. “This is the one I prefer to sleep in.”

Regina put the blankets and pillows on what she assumed to be the end of the bed.

“Here. In case your tree trunk doesn’t keep you warm enough tonight.”

Maleficent’s laughter was still in her ears when she went to tuck the boys in and say goodnight.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just Maleficent and Regina chatting. Well...mostly chatting.

Two hours later, and Regina was still awake.

She’d checked on the boys, who, despite their best intentions to stay up all night, were soon fast asleep. She’d moved through her room, picking up books and turning off the little hand-held torches they’d been using to read and send messages to each other. As was customary when she tucked them in at every sleepover, she kissed each boy’s forehead, although she lingered a little longer over Henry. She brushed the hair back from his forehead and watched his sleeping face until he started to stir, as though he was sensing her presence.

She’d looked in on Zelena, who was also asleep, rolled up in her blankets with her feet sticking out at the end. Regina rearranged the covers, tucking them in so Zelena didn’t kick them lose and suffer cold feet. She hesitated for a moment, then kissed her sister’s forehead too.

She went into Henry’s room, shaking her head at the untidy piles of clothes in the middle of the floor, and the haphazard mess of books and writing equipment on his work table. Henry was generally good with doing his chores, but the excitement of today had obviously distracted him.

The room smelled of him – the brightness of his soap, the lavender he preferred for his sheets, the heavy smell of old books and the sharp scent of new ink. She couldn’t bring herself to climb into his bed, so she sat in the armchair instead. She’d sat in this same chair for many nights, when he’d been younger and prone to fevers. She’d watched over him from this chair, fallen asleep to the sound of his breathing.

She was listening to the storm tonight; the rolling crashes had not seemed to diminish, and the flashes that lit up the sky still showed the dark overhang of fruitless clouds. She sent her magic along her wards, sensing where each person was in the house, feeling the soft weight of the boys’ presence and the warm familiarity of Zelena, and the heavier, mysterious pull of the dragon sleeping below her.

When she heard the clock downstairs strike eleven, she sighed and got up out of the chair. She obviously needed something to help her sleep.

She made her way towards the kitchen, being careful to move quietly so as not to wake anyone. She didn’t turn on any lights when she got to the kitchen; she didn’t need to; she knew this room as well as she did the back of her own hand.

 

 

“Regina?”

Maleficent’s quiet voice in the darkness made Regina gasp.

“Sorry,” Maleficent said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Regina flicked a switch, flooding the room with light.

Maleficent stood blinking in the doorway. She must have transported over something to sleep in with the bed, because she was wearing pyjamas made of a shimmery blue silk that matched her eyes. Her hair was loose, but curlier than it had been, obviously rumpled from sleep. In her comfortable flannel, Regina felt like she had dressed down to be in her own kitchen.

“I thought I was being quiet!”

“You were,” Maleficent assured her. She tapped her ears. “A dragon’s hearing is rather good. And I am…attuned to you.”

“What does that mean?”

Maleficent smiled. “I recognise your footfalls. What are you doing? Is everything all right?”

Regina sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. I was going to make some milk.”

Maleficent stepped into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

_“Make_ milk? Doesn’t it come already made? From cows?”

Regina laughed. “I’m going to warm up some milk. It helps me sleep. Sometimes.”

“Ahh.” In the light, Maleficent could see how tired Regina looked, the slump of her shoulders, the darkness under her eyes. “I can do that. Warm up milk. That doesn’t sound too difficult. Sit. Let me do it.”

“Maleficent-“

“Let me help,” she said, finishing on a wry grin.

Regina sighed. She’d already surrendered this battle. She pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

Maleficent brightened, and moved confidently towards the stove. “Pots in this cupboard, right? One like you heated up the soup in?”

Regina nodded.

“Milk in the cold store,” Maleficent was almost speaking to herself as she moved around the kitchen, showing how much attention she’d paid when she’d been helping Henry before. “Mugs up here.”

“You’ll need two,” Regina said, a smile in her voice.

“Oh? Why?”

“Don’t _you_ want some?”

Maleficent smiled. She took down two mugs.

She opened the jug of milk and carefully poured some into the pot.

“Little more,” Regina murmured, and Maleficent kept pouring until Regina said, “Good.”

She took the pot to the stove, put it on the little indent that showed where the heat was produced. She looked at the knobs that ran along the top and started to turn one. The display light glowed red.

“This is out of power,” she told Regina, adding “No,” when Regina started to get up. “Tell me how to do it.”

“See that little door at the bottom? Press it.”

Maleficent did, and the door popped open. There was a square crystal inside, glowing a dull red.

“Take that one out. It goes in the basket over by the door. One of Henry’s chores is to take the empty crystals to the recharger for topping up.”

“You don’t recharge it yourself?” Maleficent asked as she crossed the room to deposit the crystal with the other used up ones.

Regina shook her head. “Keeping track of his power crystals is something he’s going to have to do for himself. Best he learns now. Fresh crystals are in the top drawer there.”

The fresh crystals glowed blue.

Maleficent slotted one into place in the stove, closed the door, and turned the knob again. It glowed green.

“He’s good with his chores?” Maleficent asked as she watched the milk in the pot, her senses on full alert in case it did something strange.

Regina had a bemused smile on her face as she watched the dragon watching the pot.

“He does all right. Better than most, if some of the other parents are to be believed.”

“Hmm,” Maleficent said distractedly, her eyes fixed on the surface of the milk as it started to form little bubbles. “You’ve done well with him. Even in school, the other teachers remark how not terrible he is, for being from such a powerhouse family.”

Regina barked with laughter. “That’s good to know.”

“It’s bubbly,” Maleficent said with a frown. She looked at Regina. “Is that normal?”

Regina grinned. “Yes. That’s perfect. We can flavour it, if you like.”

Maleficent perked up. “What kind of flavour?”

“Henry likes chocolate,”

“Of course.”

“But perhaps not for this hour of night. There’s cinnamon. Or crystallised ginger sugar. Or cardamom.”

“Cardamom?”

“Hmm. Here,” She stood up and took down a little glass jar from a cabinet. She opened the jar and held it up for Maleficent to smell.

A smile of recognition blossomed across the dragon’s face.

“The brownies.”

Regina nodded, her eyes bright. “Yes.”

“Can we have this? In the milk?”

“Of course.” She shook a few pods into her hand and showed Maleficent how to crush them so the skin parted, revealing the little dark seeds inside. She dropped the pods into the milk, and lowered the heat. “We’ll let it steep for a while. There’s a strainer in that drawer.”

When the milk was finally steeped and poured, and the pot and strainer put into the dish cleaning box, Regina picked up her mug, took a sip and sighed.

“Thank you, Maleficent. I should go. Let you get back to sleep.”

“You’re going to take that upstairs? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable sitting down here and drinking it?”

“At the kitchen table?” Regina asked, “Hardly the best place to induce sleep.”

“No. I was thinking in here.”

Maleficent took Regina’s hand and drew her, unprotestingly, to the front room. She’d turned a lamp on, when she’d woken and got out of bed to go find Regina in the kitchen. The light pooled in a soft circle; the silvery covers were pushed back, revealing crisp white sheets.

“Maleficent,” Regina whispered a quiet protest when they stopped beside the bed.

Maleficent turned to Regina and cupped her cheek gently, her thumb stroking along Regina’s jaw. Regina leaned into Maleficent’s touch with a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s just somewhere comfortable to sit,” Maleficent said, her voice no more than a gruff whisper. “Nothing has to happen Regina. Nothing that you don’t want.”

Regina tilted her face and looked up at Maleficent, her eyes guarded; she nodded.

Maleficent cast a quick spell; Regina didn’t bother to protest this time. The spell called a pile of cushions into being, heaped up at both ends of the bed.

“See, you over here, me over there.”

Maleficent was smiling, gentle and soft and hopeful.

Regina sighed again, and brushed past Maleficent, climbing up onto the bed carefully so she didn’t spill her milk. By the time she was settled against her cushions, Maleficent was already sitting across from her, her long legs crossed, mug cupped in her hands.

“This is surprisingly comfortable,” Regina said, patting the mattress.

Maleficent’s eyebrow arched.

“What were you expecting? Rocks?”

Regina laughed. “Look at this bed, Maleficent. Can you blame me for thinking it’d be uncomfortable? It looks like you hewed a hollow into a five-hundred-year-old tree!”

Maleficent shrugged. “That _is_ what I did. Doesn’t mean it has to be uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Regina grinned. “Now I feel badly for the tree.”

Maleficent pursed her lips. She tapped the bark behind her. “See these burn marks? This tree fell victim to a storm very much like this one. It had lived for hundreds of years, surviving everything that the elements threw at it. Then it was struck down, unceremoniously cut in half. I could have left it there – left it to rot and be forgotten. But it had been such a proud, strong creature, I could not leave it to that fate. So I brought it home with me and turned it into this.”

She paused to see the effect her story had on Regina.

Regina’s eyes were bright and her mouth firmed to keep a wide smile from breaking across her face.

“Does that make you feel better?” Maleficent asked.

 “Is that a true story?” Regina responded with a question of her own, her voice light but with a seriousness underlying the teasing. “Or are you telling me that because it’ll make me happy?”

“Why would you ask?”

“Because I’m beginning to suspect there is quite a lot you would do simply because it makes me happy.” She spoke with the air of someone laying down a winning card.

Maleficent’s mouth twisted into a wry smile.

“The story is true. But so is what you said.”

“Oh.” Despite how confidently Regina had spoken before, the word was a breath of surprise.

Maleficent shifted, leaning forward.

“Why are you sad tonight, Regina?”

“I’m not-“

“I see it in your eyes.”

“It’s not sadness,” Regina tried to explain, although she struggled to find the words. “It’s…” She sighed. “Daniel and I – Henry’s father. I was pregnant. And we wanted...”

She tried again, her voice emerging a wooden staccato.

“Daniel – he’d been an only child. And I … Zelena had left for Albion and I didn’t think she’d ever come home. Mother was furious with me. Father was gone. Daniel and I wanted a family. The whole thing. A house full of children. Cats. Dogs. Horses. Everything. But then he died.”

“Regina-“

“It’s strange. For a long time, I could think of nothing but how much I missed him. Now there are days when I don’t think of him at all. But tonight. Tonight this house feels like what we wanted. And I wish he was here to see it. Even for a moment.”

“He would be pleased,” Maleficent said, softly, like she was speaking to herself. “You are a good mother to his child.”

Regina looked at her thoughtfully.

“Do you want children?”

“I won’t be able to have any.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise-“

“No dragon would have me for a mate.”

Regina frowned. “Why not?”

“In case I pass what I am to any children – being human form primary.” She shrugged. “There is very little room for me among other dragons.”

Regina’s eyes were sparking with anger. “Oh, Maleficent. You make me want to go up into the crags and shake some sense into your people.”

Maleficent grinned wryly. “As powerful as you are my dear, I doubt that would end well for you.”

“But surely…I mean, your dam – she tried to save you.”

“She did not leave me to die, Regina. But she still abandoned me. She certainly did not expect me to come back to her.”

“I would never abandon you,” Regina said fiercely. She squared her shoulders and added firmly, “And I don’t mean as your mother.”

Maleficent watched her in silence for a moment, and Regina glared back, the challenge fueled by righteous anger keeping her gaze on the silent dragon. Then, her movements deliberate, Maleficent put her mug down and leaned towards Regina. There was still an expanse of bed between them, but she looked at Regina with such intensity, the distance seemed to slip away.

“Your sister called me a coward.”

Regina blinked, startled by the apparent change of topic.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t tell you how I feel.”

“Oh,” understanding made the flush rise in Regina’s cheeks. “She wasn’t as harsh with me.”

“Hmm. Well, she probably loves you more than she likes me. And you do feed her.”

Regina laughed.

“She’s right though,” Maleficent continued. “I am – I _was_ being a coward. But, no more.”

“And what would a brave dragon do?” Regina tried for flippancy, but the breath caught in her throat so her words shook.

“Tell you how happy I am to be here with you. Tell you how dear you have become to me. Ask you if there is any chance you feel the same way.”

“That _would_ be brave,” Regina agreed, her voice soft.

Maleficent nodded, and moved to sit in front of Regina, somehow making crawling in pyjamas across a yielding mattress a graceful act.

Regina had frozen in place; she allowed Maleficent to take her mug from her, and then take both her hands in hers.

“Regina,” Maleficent said, stiffly formal, “There is something I want to tell you. I want you know that I am very happy to be here. That-“

She broke off because Regina was laughing, her eyes shining with amusement.

Maleficent frowned.

Regina leaned forward and kissed her. She started off with a quick, soft press of her lips against Maleficent’s downturned mouth, just enough to make Maleficent start to smile. Then she kissed her again, still soft and sweet, and felt Maleficent sigh. She pulled her hands from Maleficent’s suddenly loose grip and held her face, her fingers buried in hair made golden by the light, her thumbs caressing those regal cheekbones. Maleficent breathed out another sigh, and Regina deepened their kiss; her hands moved more urgently, pulling Maleficent closer so she could press into her and steal another breathy sigh from her.

Maleficent’s hands were clenched in her lap, as though she were afraid if she moved them, if she touched Regina, this contact would stop. So she just leaned into Regina, letting the air pant from her lungs and into Regina’s mouth as she kissed and caressed and clung to Maleficent’s ever-more willing body.

When Regina finally stopped kissing her and let their mouths part, Maleficent pressed her forehead to Regina’s with a shudder.

“Ohhh,” she moaned fervently. “That was a _long_ time coming.”

Regina murmured agreement and Maleficent kissed her softly, then moved forward, bearing Regina back into the cushions.

“Is this all right?” she asked as she peppered little kisses along Regina’s neck; her hands crept under Regina’s shirt, caressing firmly up along her sides.

Regina shivered and nodded. “Yes.”

She ran her hands along the silk that covered Maleficent’s arms.

“What is it about you in blue silk?” she mused.

“Hmm? Oh. The dress. Agatha talked to me about that dress, you know. I’m not allowed to wear it anymore.”

“What? She can’t-“

Maleficent stopped her protest with a kiss.

“To parent conferences.”

“Oh. Well. That’s understandable,” Regina said, mollified. “It _was_ rather distracting. You know, if you hadn’t been so rude then, we’d probably have been at this point a lot sooner.”

“Really?” Maleficent said leaning back so she could fix Regina with a sardonic smirk. “If _you_ hadn’t been quite so hard-headed, you’d have been in my bed that night.”

“Hah!” Regina spluttered. “You are very sure of yourself.”

“I saw how you looked at me,” Maleficent said primly.

“I’ve already admitted the dress was distracting,” Regina pointed out as she made a gallant effort to not kiss the smug look off Maleficent’s face.

It was a _very_ smug look though. It had to go.

Regina kissed Maleficent again, but this time Maleficent took control of their kiss, dipping her tongue into Regina’s mouth to run along her teeth, then kissing her top lip, and sucking on her bottom lip, until Regina was crushing the silk of Maleficent’s shirt in her clenched fists and moaning throatily.

“Oh yes,” Maleficent said, her voice rough as she nuzzled into the warm spot behind Regina’s ear. “That very night.”

Regina sighed in defeat. “Probably.”

Maleficent tilted Regina’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You should know – that is not my only intention. I don’t just want to bed you.”

“Good,” Regina replied. “Because no one’s getting bedded tonight.”

“Oh?” Maleficent asked, an impudent lilt to her voice. She took Regina’s earlobe between her teeth and began to suck.

Regina reaction sat between a groan and laugh.

“We can’t. The children-“

Maleficent released Regina’s earlobe and frowned in concentration.

“Everyone’s still sleeping,” she informed her.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Regina responded, but couldn’t help kissing Maleficent as soon as she’d finished speaking.

“Very well,” Maleficent said with a sigh. “No sex tonight. I did tell your sister my intentions towards you were honourable.”

Regina laughed. “Did you really?”

“I did. She was very disappointed with me.”

“I’m not,” Regina said, suddenly solemn. “It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to let someone in. You may have noticed – I’m out of practice.”

“Hmm,” Maleficent hummed in agreement. She was pressing soft kisses to Regina’s neck, seemingly unable to stop now that she’d started. “I can be patient. If you say you want me. If you’re willing to give this a chance.”

“I am,” Regina said with feeling. “I do.”

Maleficent captured her mouth, sealing the promise with a kiss that left them both breathless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can hear people saying "finally!" from here.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we learn a little more about dragon customs, and the best way to a dragon's heart.

 

They passed the night in Maleficent’s bed, alternating soft kisses and caresses with conversation that ranged from teasing to deeply heartfelt. Outside, the storm still crashed on, but they were unfazed; wrapped in each other, lying in the little island made by the pool of soft lamplight, nothing else could reach them.

“Have you never been with anyone?” Regina asked. She was running her hands through Maleficent’s hair and outlining her mouth with her thumb, her eyes softened by something that looked very much like wonder.

Maleficent’s eyes widened in surprise. “Am I coming across like I am inexperienced, Regina?” she asked with a frown.

“No. Not at all,” Regina said feelingly; she kissed her briefly before adding, “But you said that no dragon would have you for a mate-“

“A _mate_. Not a lover. I’ve had lovers Regina – dragon and human both. But I’ve not been mated.”

“Oh.” She sounded confused. “Being mated then, that’s…what, like being married?”

“Not quite. You could re-marry – have more than one spouse. But dragons mate for life.”

“Ah.”

“And only mated dragons bear offspring.”

“So, because another dragon wouldn’t mate with you – that’s why you can’t have children?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so…” Regina’s voice trailed off in a growl.

Maleficent kissed her, hard and thoroughly, breaking the building curve of anger.

“In truth, it’s not been such a hardship. I’ve never met anyone I’ve _wanted_ to be mated with.”

“I can understand that, I suppose,” Regina said tentatively, the furrows of a frown still on her brow. “After Daniel, there really hasn’t been anyone I could see myself with.”

Maleficent kissed her forehead and smiled softly down at her.

“Would you tell me about him?”

Regina’s eyes widened with surprise. Maleficent returned to kissing her neck, not pressing for a response to her question. Regina sighed.

“He was..he was _beautiful._ ”

Maleficent lifted her head so she could see Regina’s face. She smiled encouragingly.

“He was _so_ good with horses,” Regina continued, her eyes shining and her mouth curled into a soft smile. “And he was gentle and kind. But strong too. I felt…when I was with him…I didn’t have to fight so hard.”

“I’m glad,” Maleficent said earnestly, “I’m glad you had him.”

“We were so young,” Regina said ruefully. “Not much more than children, really. But he made me feel like we could take on the world together.”

“Hmm,” Maleficent hummed agreement. “You probably could.”

Regina laughed. Her hand found Maleficent’s face again, cheek soft against her palm. “Flatterer,” she whispered.

Maleficent grinned and kissed her.

“How do dragons pick a mate?” Regina asked suddenly. “Do you fall in love? _Do_ dragons love?”

“With all our heart,” Maleficent replied, her voice pitched low and rough.

A shiver went through Regina, a response to the intensity of Maleficent’s words.

“And is that all it takes? You’re mated when you fall in love?”

“Ah, no. No. You have to court your mate. You must prove yourself worthy to _be_ mated.”

“Worthy how?” Regina was curious, not understanding how anyone could find Maleficent unworthy. “What do you have to do?”

“Give gifts mostly. Or complete feats of daring and strength. Sometimes both. When my sire courted my dam, he brought her the Fire Stones of Anssari. It took him six months, and it nearly killed him, but when he managed it, she accepted him.”

“The Fire Stones? But they’ve been missing for nearly eighty years!”

“Not missing,” Maleficent said drily. “They’re safe in my dam’s lair.”

Regina stared at her. Then she frowned, and spoke as though she were reciting something she had learned long ago, “Dragons are a long-lived species.”

“We are,” Maleficent agreed.

“How old _are_ you?”

“I’m long-lived,” Maleficent explained. “But being human primary – I’m not as long-lived as most dragons. My lifespan is closer to humans than to dragons.”

“So how long do you have?”

Maleficent laughed. “It’s not like there’s a countdown, Regina! I’ve probably lived just over half my span.” She shrugged. “That’s another reason a dragon wouldn’t mate with me. Why would you take a mate who wouldn’t live long enough to see your offspring properly grown?”

“There’s no guarantees about that,” Regina pointed out, her voice flat and stiff.

“Indeed.”

Maleficent shifted her position to lie next to Regina, instead of leaning over her. She pulled Regina closer, so that she could rest her head on Maleficent’s shoulder, and rubbed soothing caresses up and down Regina’s back. Regina sighed, the stiffness easing under Maleficent’s touch.

Regina reached up and began to kiss Maleficent, tentatively at first, just trailing soft kisses along her jaw and the corners of her mouth. Maleficent’s breathing deepened; she rolled Regina back over and kissed her, claiming Regina’s mouth with her own. Regina wound one arm around Maleficent’s shoulders, cradling her head in a gentle hand; she pulled up the hem of Maleficent’s shirt with her other hand so she could press against her skin as she held her close.

Maleficent’s kisses grew more intense, more demanding; her hands slipped under Regina’s shirt and roamed across heated skin.

Regina shuddered. She moaned. “Mal.” The word stammered from her, her voice broken with passion.

Maleficent froze. She pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” Regina asked, confused at the sudden loss.

“My dam did not give me much,” Maleficent said, her voice low. “But one thing she _did_ give me was a name. Maleficent. Even the sound of it – destruction and death. A good strong dragon name. Dragons don’t have nicknames, Regina. Or diminutives.”

Regina’s frown cleared as she understood. “You don’t want me to call you Mal.”

“No. That’s just the thing. I _like_ it when you call me that. I like the _reason_ you call me that,” she added with a self-satisfied smirk. “I like the way it sounds.”

“You’re turned on because you get me so flustered that I can’t even say your name right?” Regina asked with a wide smile.

“Yes,” Maleficent agreed. She stopped Regina’s pleased laugh with another kiss. She kissed her and touched her with such ardour that soon Regina was arching up into her, clutching at Maleficent’s shoulders for an anchor, and filling the air around them with the sound of her soft gasps and the shuddering moan that Maleficent’s name had become.

Realising that things would soon grow so heated there was a risk they would forgot themselves, they eased up on the intensity of their embrace. This did not happen without some effort.

“I adore Henry and Zelena. And Alan and Riggs are a delight,” Maleficent grumbled into the curve of Regina’s neck. “But I am very much looking forward to them not being here.”

Regina laughed softly and rubbed Maleficent’s shoulder comfortingly.

They lay in silence for a while, as their breathing evened and their heartbeats slowed to beat in synch, steady and strong. Regina kept running her hands under Maleficent’s shirt, drawing up along her spine and then curling around her shoulder blades. Maleficent sighed contentedly and snuggled closer.

“Is this normal?” Regina asked suddenly, the movement of her hands becoming more exploratory, her fingers stroking against Maleficent’s skin as though she were seeking something.

“What?” Maleficent asked, the frown obvious in her voice.

“I could feel…when you were kissing me before…I don’t know how to explain it.”

Maleficent pushed herself back from her comfortable position against Regina’s shoulder and looked at her.

“What’s wrong, Regina?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that, when you were kissing me, I could swear I felt…wings.”

“Wings?”

“I can’t explain it. I _know_ they weren’t really there. But I could feel them. From here.” She tapped Maleficent’s shoulder blades. “It was like the memory of a touch, or a breath of air.”

“You felt wings,” Maleficent repeated.

Regina took a deep breath. “And scales.”

“Scales.”

“When I touched you. I could feel your skin, obviously. And you’re so soft,” she added, kissing Maleficent with a matching softness. “But I could also feel…or remember feeling…scales. Like I was feeling something that wasn’t there.” She shook her head. “I’m not making any sense.”

“You felt wings and scales.”

“Yes. Is it normal? I’ve never been with a dragon before – but you’ve been with other humans. Did they-“

“No.”

Regina could not interpret the look Maleficent was giving her – unable to tell if this was discomfort or surprise, or something else.

“Mal-“

“Other dragons though. They can. They see my true form. My dragon form.”

“Oh.”

“You’re sensing my true form, Regina.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think it possible for a human-“

“I don’t sense it all the time,” Regina pointed out. “Only when you are…particularly impassioned.”

“Hmm. So when you get me really hot and bothered, I go dragon for you?”

Regina flushed. Her face broke into a wide smile. She bit her bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the smugness she was feeling from being too obvious; her eyes glinted with too much pleasure for her to be successful in that.

Maleficent growled. She started to lower her head to kiss Regina, but stopped abruptly.

“It doesn’t bother you? Knowing my true form – feeling it when we are…impassioned.”

Maleficent’s voice was very serious, and it made Regina pause to consider her response before she made it. She thought about how it had felt. When Maleficent’s kisses and caresses had grown increasingly amorous, and she had suddenly become aware of the sensation of wings, rising up out of Maleficent’s shoulders and curling around her. It was as though she was being held twice – first in Maleficent’s arms and then wrapped again in the leathery warmth of her wings.

Regina shook her head.

“It doesn’t bother me, Mal. I felt safe. Protected. I liked it. And I like it a lot more now, now that I know just what I am feeling. And why.”

The pleased sound Maleficent made rumbled through her, powerful enough for Regina to feel the vibrations against her own skin. Then Maleficent was kissing her, ramping her embrace up to such a fiery intensity that there was hardly any pause before Regina felt the dragon’s wings enfold her again.

Maleficent positioned herself above Regina, straddling her hips, so she could reach more of her. She pushed the collar of her shirt aside and nuzzled into Regina’s neck and along her collarbones, inhaling her scent and sucking gently on her warm skin, spurred on by the soft sounds of pleasure Regina was making.

Regina’s hands were under Maleficent’s shirt, palming her breasts and raking nails down her back, making the dragon writhe and hiss and bite down.

“Mal!” Regina gasped.

Maleficent reared back at the sound; her eyes were hooded and dark and she fixed Regina with a gaze so intense, she felt her heartbeat start to race even faster.

When Maleficent started to speak, her voice was barely recognisable; it had taken on the timbre and cadence of a spell casting; it made Regina shiver.

“I have power,” Maleficent intoned. “I have strength.”

“Maleficent?” Regina whispered.

Her voice broke through Maleficent’s trancelike state, and she shook her head as though ridding her ears of water.

“Oh, Regina,” she murmured, her voice slowly returning to its normal tone. “It seems my body and heart have decided.”

“Decided what?” Regina asked, shifting so she was sitting up, putting a little space between her and Maleficent, so they were level and face to face.

“What I was saying just now. It’s the first part of the declaration of intent.”

“Intent to do what exactly?”

“To court.”

“Court. You want…you want to _court_ me?”

“Yes. That’s how it goes. I declare my intent to court you. And if you are willing, you permit it, and then we see. If you will accept my efforts.”

“What’s the rest of it? The declaration.”

“I have power,” Maleficent repeated, her voice earnest, but sounding its usual self. “I have strength. I will bend them to your will. Command me. I will do whatever you ask.”

“And if I do permit it. And I ask you for … the Fire Stones … and you bring them to me. Then we are mated?”

Maleficent grinned. “Only if you consent to it. Do you want the Fire Stones? I know exactly where they are.”

Regina shook her head. “I don’t want the Fire Stones. Can a human and a dragon _be_ mated?”

Maleficent shrugged. “There’s never been a dragon like me in recorded history, Regina. I don’t know what I am capable of, or permitted. So I tend to make my own choices. And it’s growing more obvious by the moment that I am choosing you.”

“I’ve been courted by a king,” Regina murmured.

Maleficent’s face fell, and Regina moved forward immediately, cupping her face and kissing her.

“He had nothing on you, my darling.”

Maleficent sighed and leaned her forehead against Regina’s shoulder.

“So, will you permit it? May I court you?”

“What would I have to do?”

Maleficent leaned back and replied, “Just tell me what you want, Regina. And if you find my efforts satisfactory…find me worthy of being your mate…then we can talk about it. Explore what it may mean for us to be mated.”

“No ceremonies?”

Maleficent shrugged. “It doesn’t usually take more than that for dragons. But humans exchange tokens and words? When they are promised to each other?”

Regina nodded.

“I would do that, with you,” Maleficent said firmly.

“If I wanted to be married, you’d marry me.”

“I would. Will you let me court you? Will you tell me what you want?”

Regina frowned.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Maleficent asked, confused.

“What do _you_ want?”

“I don’t-“

“I mean…I have power,” Regina said, her voice growing more confident and sure as she continued. “I have strength-“

“Regina, what are you doing?”

“Declaring my intent.”

“You can’t do that!” Maleficent protested.

“Why not?”

“You’re not…you…I asked first!”

Regina laughed. “You just got through telling me that you make your own choices. So, I can choose too. And I don’t think there has ever been a dragon who deserves to be courted more than you. So, Maleficent, truest of dragons. Hear me.”

Her voice shifted, drawing suddenly on the influence of her magic, it grew deep and dark, rumbling with potency.

“I have power. I have strength. I will bend them to your will.”

“Regina,” Maleficent said, her eyes bright.

“Command me,” Regina continued, her voice softening, making these words the sweetest of requests.

“I will do whatever you ask,” she finished, firm and sure.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Maleficent asked, her voice made gravelly by unshed tears.

“Declared my intent,” Regina replied with no hesitation. “Tell me what you want, Maleficent. Let me prove myself worthy of you.”

“We’ve both declared,” Maleficent pointed out. “Are you refusing me?”

“Oh. No. Can we..why can’t we both do the courting?“

Maleficent groaned. “In a thousand years of recorded history, I don’t think there’s ever been a situation where two people- Fine. Yes. Why not? We can both court each other.”

She sounded so grumpy that Regina had to kiss her, even though she was grinning as she did it.

“I’m sorry I’m disrupting all your ancient dragon customs. Now. Will you tell me what you want?”

“You first,” Maleficent said, still grumpy.

Regina smiled ruefully. “I want you to be patient a while longer, Maleficent. Please? I’m not sure how to tell Henry. I want him to understand this. And I certainly don’t want to tell Zelena right away. Because her gloating will be unbearable! I want us to just spend some time together. Can we do that? You and me. And you and me and Henry. And…well…possibly meet Mother. And-“

“Regina. You’re really supposed to set me something that is difficult. Asking me to spend more time with you and your son…that is hardly going to test my resolve or the strength of my feelings. I would be happy – more than happy – to do all of that.”

“You asked what I wanted, Maleficent.”

Maleficent sighed.

“I will do as you ask,” she said. _“All_ my power and strength shall go to the onerous task of spending more time with you.”

Her eyes shining with mirth, Regina said, “Thank you. Now, what do you want?”

Now it was Maleficent’s turn to grin, gleeful and wicked.

“I want to bring you flowers – fire roses from the outer rings of-“

“No. Oh, no. That’s cheating!”

“You asked what I wanted, Regina.”

Regina groaned.

“You are the sneakiest dragon I know.”

“I am.” She kissed her soundly, then asked with a smirk. “Shall I continue to name everything-“

“No,” Regina interrupted with a frustrated eye roll. “Is that the extent of your list? Things you want to do for me?”

“No. There is something else.”

“Name it.”

Maleficent leaned forward so she could ghost a kiss across Regina’s lips. She brought her hand up to rest just under Regina’s chin, fingers curled and stroking gently.

“I want more nights like this one,” she started. All sense of teasing had left her voice. “Nights where I am welcome into your home. Nights where you permit me to spend time telling Henry the stories he is so fond of, and he can teach me more of those card games.” She shifted, her fingers now curling into the collar of Regina’s shirt, tugging her infinitesimally closer. Regina eyes were shining up at her, her lips parted.

“I want a seat at your table, Regina. I want to learn to hand cook with you. When the Major calls on you for aid, I want to fight beside you. I want to stand at your side, Regina, in all things. I want to be in your bed. I want to fall asleep and wake up with the sound of your heart beating against my breast. I want-“

“Yes,” Regina breathed, closing the gap between the and kissing Maleficent to stop her litany before it brought them both to tears. “Yes, Mal. Yes to all of that. With all my power and strength. Yes.”

Maleficent touched her forehead to Regina’s, held it there while they both calmed a little.

“And one last thing.”

“Anything,” Regina said fervently.

“I want brownies. Every week.”

It took a beat for her words to register, and then Regina was spluttering with helpless laughter, and Maleficent was kissing her, holding her shaking body close.

“Every week,” Regina promised.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clean up after the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually pretty impressed with myself that I've gone this long without anything that overtly resembles a plot. But we're well into the foothills of plot thickening territory now.

Regina woke in an unfamiliar bed, but more content than she could remember being for years.

They had stayed awake, talking, until the storm seemed to have passed. Regina had checked in with Major Stewart; the worst of the storm _was_ over, but there was a residue of disturbance in the air that left it still unsafe to use magic. The warlocks were on patrol, but were restricting themselves to magic use only in emergency situations.

When she’d finished talking to the Major, Regina had been too tired, and truth be told, too comfortable, to go back upstairs. So she’d stayed in the dragon’s bed, curled up on her side, anchored by Maleficent’s hand on her hip.

But she had woken, shivering, at some point in the night, to discover that the sleeping Maleficent was a blanket thief who had rolled herself into every cover on the bed. After a brief tussle, Maleficent had relented and dragged Regina into the cocoon of covers with her. They’d kissed, sleepily but ardently, until Regina had grown too warm and had wriggled her way somewhat to freedom, soothing a grumbling dragon with more lazy kisses until they had finally both fallen back asleep.

She’d ended up with her legs uncovered to her knees and her head and shoulders above the folds of the duvet, while Maleficent had managed to curl herself around Regina and wrapped the covers around her entire body. Somehow being cold at her head and feet and too-warm around her middle balanced out to an overall feeling of comfort. Or perhaps that comfort came from Maleficent’s closeness, her arms firm around Regina's body, her hands against her back and on her hip.

They were in the same position now, Maleficent still curled around Regina under the covers. Regina managed to squirm her arms free, and loosened the covers enough so she could look down to see Maleficent’s fair head snuggled against her chest. She let her fingers trail through the now-curly hair, loosening the tangles her fingers had left when she’d clutched at Maleficent in the heat of their passion. She sighed. The sun was coming up, and soon her son and his little friends would be too.

She started the delicate procedure of extricating herself from Maleficent’s clutches. She’d got so far as starting to roll away from her body, when the dragon woke. Maleficent did not come alert immediately, it took her a few moments to reach awareness; but in those moments, she had already reached out with both arms and hauled Regina back to her.

“Where you going?” she mumbled sleepily against Regina’s neck.

“To check in with Major Stewart. And to make breakfast,” Regina replied. She made no move to free herself, relishing in the feel of Maleficent’s lips moving against her skin again. “Three growing boys are going to demand to be fed soon.”

Maleficent tilted her head, yawned, then frowned in concentration for a few moments; she returned her mouth to Regina’s neck.

“Everyone’s still asleep,” she informed her. “Stay here.”

Maleficent was fully alert now, and her hands were stroking with some purpose along the curve of Regina’s belly just above the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.

Regina shivered, and Maleficent growled softly.

“I can’t,” Regina said, her voice hoarse with regret. She put her hands over Maleficent’s to still their movement. “There’ll be too much to do today. And those boys will be down here in no time flat.”

Maleficent made a grumbly little noise that caused Regina to turn and kiss her. She just stopped herself from saying, _‘I’ll make it up to you later’._ That sort of thing sounded more like a bad come-on than anything Regina would actually say. But Maleficent was pouting so prettily that Regina had to kiss her again.

“Someone really should alert all teachers of extra-human studies that dragons are so incredibly cuddly,” Regina whispered instead, a teasing smirk on her face. “It would lead to _such_ an upheaval in the field.”

“I am not _cuddly!_ ” Maleficent protested, in highly affronted tones.

Regina just grinned.

“Stay,” she said to Maleficent. “Sleep some more. I’ll go get breakfast sorted out.”

“No,” Maleficent replied with a sigh, taking her hands off Regina. “I want to hear what the Major says. And I can help with breakfast. It’ll go faster.”

 

They weren’t the most efficient team in the kitchen – Maleficent was still too inexperienced and unsure to do much more than fetch and move things that Regina pointed out. But she did know her way around enough to set the table, and put the bread in the little box that would brown it to toast (and refrain from pointing out how much quicker it’d be if she just ran some dragonfire over the slices).

As she beat eggs and Maleficent (carefully) grated cheese, Regina raised Major Stewart on her personal crystal.

The Major’s face was drawn, her eyes bleary, but she was wearing a clean, freshly-pressed shirt and her hair was still slick from a shower.

“Report?” Regina asked, not bothering with the niceties of ‘good morning’ and ‘how did you sleep’.

“Tallying the most recent damage reports now, Ma’am,” Major Stewart responded, her voice crisp despite the tiredness evident in her eyes. “There’s casualties, but no fatalities to report. At this point, that is. We’re still checking structures to be sure.”

 Regina nodded. “Is it safe to use magic?”

“Yes Ma’am. Stabilised just before dawn. The boffins gave us the all-clear.”

Regina paused in the act of pouring eggs into a hot pan.

“I’ll head in to – where are you headquartered?”

“I’d like to have you out here Ma’am. Stars know we could use you. But I think we’re best off with you at Town Hall. They’ll likely want your hand on the reins there.”

Regina frowned. The Major was right – Storybrooke would need the steady leadership of her Mayor this morning – and she knew that she could do just as much good overseeing and coordinating every response effort from her office. But she wanted to be out in the field with the warlocks, making an immediate difference. Her hands clenched with frustration.

“I can help.” Maleficent’s voice was even, the steadiness of her presence suddenly at Regina’s shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Major Stewart demanded with a frown.

Regina glanced up at Maleficent, but it was to the Major she spoke. “Madam LeFey.” She tilted her crystal a little so the Major could see Maleficent.

“The dragon.”

“Yes. She works-“

“I know, Ma’am. I vetted the paperwork. When Madam Lucas put in the request to clear her new teacher.”

“Of course.”

“You worked the borderlands,” the Major said to Maleficent.

“I did.”

“The warlocks don’t generally use civilian volunteers.”

Maleficent frowned, but the Major kept speaking.

“I’d need the Mayor’s authorisation.”

“You want to do this?” Regina asked Maleficent quietly.

“You can’t be out there, but I can,” Maleficent said. “So yes. I want to do this.”

With the Major on the other end of the crystal, Regina restricted herself to squeezing Maleficent’s hand.

“I’ll get her fed, then send her out to you,” Regina told the Major.

“Oh.” There was a hesitation in the Major’s voice. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“They’re checking structures,” Maleficent reminded Regina gently. “It’s search and rescue.”

“Of course,” Regina said, her face falling. “I didn’t think.”

Lives may be at stake. There was no time to waste on breakfast.

“We have ration bars at HQ, Ma’am. I’ll see she gets a couple.”

“And a fancy uniform?” Maleficent deadpanned.

The Major grinned. “We’ll see what we can do. Sending coordinates to your crystal now, Ma’am. We’ll be expecting you, Madam LeFey.”

The Major ended the connection, and Regina turned to Maleficent.

Maleficent had changed her clothes in a flare of magic, and had her crystal at the ready, waiting for Regina to share the Major’s location.

Regina took Maleficent’s face in her hands and reached up on tip-toe to kiss her, fierce and hard.

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

She kissed Regina gently, transporting away in the same moment, leaving Regina with the sensation of softly fading pressure on her lips.

Zelena walked in bare moments later, as Regina still stood in the middle of her kitchen, eyes half-closed and mouth pursed.

“Did you know you have a tree growing in your front room?”

Regina turned to face her sister. Zelena was looking around the kitchen, and so missed the worry and momentary confusion on her sister’s face.

“Maleficent’s bed,” Regina said.

“Hmm. Can’t say I’m surprised. Exactly what a dragon would sleep in. Where is the old thing anyway?”

“She’s gone. Helping the warlocks with search and rescue.”

“How noble of her.”

“I should go too. They’ll need me down at Town Hall.”

“Was it bad?”

Regina shrugged. “I don’t know all the details yet. We’ve taken some damage, but I don’t know just how much or to what extent. That’s why I have to go in.”

She turned back to her interrupted breakfast preparations.

“I’ll just finish the omelettes.”

“Regina, go. Do what you need to. I’ll look after the boys.”

“I always make omelettes for them, on the day after Henry’s birthday.”

Regina’s voice was flat, shoulders squared and back ramrod straight. Everything seemed to be happening very quickly this morning – too quickly for her to process. It seemed hardly no time ago that she’d been cuddling and teasing Maleficent. Her mind still coming to terms with the idea that they were courting, Regina’s biggest concern had been how to introduce the concept to Henry, and keep her sister from discovering this new relationship too soon. Then in a blink, Maleficent had been transporting off to help the warlocks and, however illogically, Regina was suddenly fearful about the safety of her town and her brand-new lover. She needed something familiar and stable to keep her on an even keel, and she found herself clinging to the ritual of cooking the post-birthday breakfast and seeing her son before she set off to save the town.

Zelena frowned and moved closer to Regina, placing her hand on her shoulder, instinctively reacting to the distress she could feel in her sister, although she could not fathom its cause.

“I know,” Zelena said tenderly. “Okay. You finish the eggs then, and I’ll go see they’ve washed their faces before they come downstairs.”

Regina smiled at her.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

By the time Zelena had chivvied the boys downstairs, Regina had recovered her composure. She greeted them with smiles and hugs, ushering them to the table cheerfully.

“Alan, Riggs – I know you were worried, so I’ve talked to your parents. They’re all fine. They’ll be here to collect you in an hour; give you a chance to eat your breakfast! So eat up before it gets cold!”

As the boys settled at the table, she added,

“I’m sorry I can’t eat with you. But I have to go to work.”

“Was the storm really bad?” Riggs asked, as he tucked eagerly into his food.

“Not too bad, but I do have to go check up on things,” Regina answered.

Their concerns answered, Alan and Riggs shovelled food into their mouths while exchanging bantering commentary with Zelena. But Henry was silent, and merely pushed his eggs around his plate with his fork.

Regina noticed this, and went over to her son and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry, darling. I won’t be able to spend the day with you, like we’d planned.”

“It’s okay,” he said, squaring his shoulders as he spoke. “You have to go take care of things. I understand.”

He ate a bite of eggs.

“The troupe is meeting for a practice, though,” he said. “May I go?”

“At the school?”

“Yes. We sort of planned it last night.”

Regina glanced at Zelena. “I’m not sure if Madam Lucas’s has been cleared as safe, Henry.”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“I’ll wait with you, Harry,” Zelena said. “And fly you over on my broom when we know it’s-“

“I’m nearly thirteen,” Henry interrupted. “I’m not afraid of transporting anymore.” He glanced at his mum. “If Aunt Zelena will take me?”

“Oh.”

Regina felt unexpected tears pricking at her eyes; Henry sounded so brave and grown up, and his words felt too much like he was pulling away from her. She had to stop herself from pointing out that thirteen was only a day shy of a year away.

“Are you sure, darling? It won’t be too much trouble to have-“

“I’m sure, Mum.”

“Zelena?”

“No bother at all. Always happy to spend time with my favourite nephew.”

“Okay. Good.” She kissed Henry’s forehead again. “I’m so proud of you, darling. Now. I really do have to go. I’ll check in with you later. But if you need anything. Anything at all. You know you can call me.”

“Yes, Mum,” Henry replied with a smile that looked like he meant it. He seemed to brighten up, and he attacked his breakfast with sudden gusto.

With some relief, Regina decided that her little boy was still in there. She ruffled his hair affectionately, then strode towards the door. She was in a hurry, and so the door hadn’t quite closed behind her before she was gesturing to call forth her magic. In one movement, she changed her clothing; on the second she had transported away. That brief moment had been long enough for the boys to register the black leather and the combat boots.

“Woah,” Riggs said quietly.

“That was a warlock’s uniform!” Alan added. “Is Ms. Mills a warlock?”

“Not quite,” Zelena said. “That’s a modified civilian uniform. Major Stewart assigned it to Regina after she came home one day so covered in…”

She paused mid-recollection, reminding herself who her audience was, and that Regina did not want Henry knowing how often her work with the warlocks turned violent and bloody.

“…covered in muck,” Zelena continued, “she’d ruined her favourite waistcoat. No amount of magic in the _realm_ could save it. So the Major let her start wearing that.”

“Major Stewart lets a civilian wear a warlock’s uniform?” Riggs asked, in a shocked voice. Anyone who knew anything about the warlocks knew the Major was a rigid stickler for the rules.

Zelena grinned.

“Do you remember what happened when you managed to ruin her favourite tablecloth?”

“Ah. Yeah,” Riggs said, his face scrunched up at the unpleasant memory. “I can understand why the Major gave in.”

Zelena was glad when that seemed to be the end of it, and the boys returned to their breakfast.

 

In the end, Alan and Riggs decided they’d come with Henry to watch his troupe practice, so as soon as Zelena confirmed the school buildings and grounds had received the all-clear, she transported them all over. His friends’ presence had helped Henry be a little more confident, but he still clutched his aunt’s hand when the magic swirled around him. They arrived on the school grounds with no mishap, and Zelena sent a discrete missive to Regina to let her know.

Other students were materialising around the playing fields as news of the clearance spread. Henry and his friends ran over to join them. The troupe gathered in an excited group, obviously recounting the stories of last night – Zelena heard a lot of ‘where were you when’s and ‘did you see’s, but nothing too scary or worrisome.

She left the children under the watchful eye of the duty nurse and one of groundsmen. Henry knew to contact her by crystal if there was any sort of problem, and so Zelena was going to head to her office to try to get a head start on some of Monday’s paperwork.

She realised that Madam Lucas was also at work when she noticed the headmistress’s open door; she poked her head in to check that everything was all right. It was unusual for the woman to be in her office on a weekend.

“What are you doing here, Agatha?” she asked.

“Was about to ask you the same thing,” Madam Lucas replied, her kind eyes twinkling at Zelena through her glasses. “You’re not missing young Miss French _so_ much that you’re turning to work for distraction, are you?”

Zelena sighed. One of the downsides of working with an old wolf was that very little went unnoticed.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “Henry and the junior flyers are here practicing their display.”

“Oh. I didn’t see Maleficent.”

“She’s helping the warlocks, actually,” Zelena said, coming all the way into the office as it became apparent that Madam Lucas was up for a chat. “But the kids are far enough along that they’re just putting a polish on things now. They don’t need her to oversee practice.”

“Hmm,” the headmistress said. “Probably not a bad thing.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ve just been dealing with the Palace.”

“What’s going on?” Zelena asked, dropping into one of the visitors’ chairs.

“You know Leopold stopped attending the public events of the Birthday Celebrations?”

“Yes,” Zelena said. “It was after I’d left for Albion, but I got the gist of it. Mother complained quite bitterly about losing the opportunity to be seen in the Royal pavilions in the Park.”

“Well, it seems that Queen Snow has decided she would like to reinstate the tradition of the Royal Personage attending the public events.”

“Decided now?”

“Yes.”

“For _this_ year?”

“Yes.”

“Less than a week bef-“

“Yes.”

“Oh blessed _beard!”_

“Indeed.”

“Does she not realise-“

“She is a young and inexperienced queen.”

“She has _people-!”_

“Her Court is also young and inexperienced.”

Zelena groaned.

“They should have named Regina Regent after Leopold died.”

“She was no longer married to Leopold,” Agatha pointed out reasonably. “It would hardly have been apt.”

“Bugger apt,” Zelena swore. “More than half the Court wanted it! She’d have taught Snow to be a…well…perhaps a _good_ queen is too much to expect, but certainly not an _inept_ one!”

“I don’t think your sister would have been grateful for the honour, if it had been presented to her.”

“It would not have been an _honour,”_ Zelena spat. “But a duty. And no one would have been quicker to do their duty to this realm than Regina!”

“Perhaps not,” Agatha said gently. “And perhaps that’s why her _friends_ saw to it she did not end up as Regent?”

Zelena groaned again.

“I’m sorry, Agatha. I’m an old hothead. Gets in the way of thinking sometimes.”

Madam Lucas grinned. “If there’s one thing the Mills sisters have in common, it’s your hotheadedness. And your unfailing faith in each other.”

“Don’t forget our ravishing beauty,” Zelena muttered, her ears flushing pinkly at the praise underlying the headmistress’s words.

Madam Lucas’s grin broadened.

“Oh, never. Never. Speaking of, _have_ you heard from Belle?”

“Pan’s _beard_ ,” Zelena swore. “You’re worse than- Yes. I spoke with her this morning. She’s fine. She looks tired, and her sisters are a pain in the backside, and she misses the Library, but she’s fine.”

“Good. Good. Give her my best when you speak with her again.”

“I will,” Zelena said grumpily. “Now, what did the palace want from us?”

“Heightened security checks. Seems they’ve just pulled out Leopold’s old notes and are using those. They want background checks on all persons who will be within two hundred feet of the pavilions, and all performers, and their families.”

“Their families, huh?” Zelena said. “All their family? Because young Almay has a baby sister. They want a background check on the baby too? How many times she throws up on her father, sort of thing?”

“Careful, Zelena,” Madam Lucas said wearily, “Don’t give them any ideas.”

Zelena bit back a snort of laughter.

“Right. Okay. I suppose it has to be done?”

“Or we pull the troupe.”

Zelena sighed. “Can’t have that. They’ve worked too hard. Fine. Hand over the notes. I’ll get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for whoever read the 'blanket stealing skirmish' ficlet on tumblr - now you know where it fit into the overall fic. :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maleficent comes to dinner. Regina's very domestic and the perfect hostess - almost. Henry's growing up. Zelena is Zelena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long-ish chapter to make up for the long gap between updates! Sorry about that folks, if you were hanging out for an update. Several weeks from hell in a row makes it tough to write fluff!

It was after lunch when Regina called Zelena on her personal crystal. They’d exchanged brief missives during the morning, but both of them had been too busy to take the time to talk.

“How’s Storybrooke?” Zelena asked.

“All good,” Regina said, the relief clear in her voice. “No fatalities, and the healers have released almost all the injured.”

“Oh, I _am_ glad to hear that. And you? Holding up okay?”

“Yes. It’s got quiet here. Just paperwork. I’ve never signed so many repair orders! Which reminds me, I’m sorry it took so long to get a team out to your place.”

“That’s fine,” Zelena said. “I’ve been tied up here myself, with this Palace business. Haven’t had much of a chance to think about it! The team did send me a missive though. There’s nothing urgent. Paintwork and some new windows, and I’ll be good as new.”

“Good. Henry’s practice go okay?”

“Oh, yes. They’re still out there, but I think they’re just messing about now. When I checked on them, they were mostly just talking and flitting about on the brooms.”

Regina’s smile was tinged with sadness. “I’m glad he’s not alone today.”

“He’s fine,” Zelena said gently. “You didn’t raise a selfish son, Regina. He understands.”

“Thank you, Zelena.”

“What time do you want him home?”

Regina glanced around her office. She’d set up her response team here, made it the hub of all the activity that needed to happen to see Storybrooke through the aftermath of the storm.

The room was quieter now than it had been even an hour ago. Things were returning slowly to normal levels.

“I should be home by 3:00,” Regina said, “4:00 at the outside.”

“Perfect,” Zelena responded. “I’ve got a few more piles of paper to push around, then I’ll bring Harry home. And don’t worry, I’ve fed him. Something sugary and bad for him.”

Regina laughed, despite herself. “I’m sure Henry loved that.”

Zelena grinned.

“Have to retain my favourite aunty crown somehow.”

 

 

Regina was in the kitchen when Zelena and Henry transported back home. She could feel her sister’s magic push against the house wards. Henry, of course, was not restrained by the wards, and he must have waved his power-saving door release card over the lock, because she heard the door slam back and the sound of laughter rolling up from the hallway.

Zelena and Henry came bustling into the kitchen, bright-eyed and smiling.

“Hello, Mum!” Henry cried.

Zelena waved hello, and stayed by the door so Henry could hug his mother.

Regina’s heart swelled with happiness as she felt Henry’s cold forehead press tightly against her neck. She leaned back so she could look at her son, cupping his face in both her hands, her eyes warmed by her smile.

“Look at you!” she laughed. He was covered in green smudges and streaks of mud. “Were you flying or rolling around the field?”

“Bit of both,” Henry admitted sheepishly.

“They played tag after lunch,” Zelena said helpfully.

“Go, get cleaned up,” Regina ordered. “And don’t track mud all over the house!”

“Yes, Mum,” Henry said, with only a slight eye roll. He hugged her again, and dashed off upstairs.

“He had fun today?” Regina asked.

Zelena grinned, her eyes glinting.

“Do you know Elise? New girl. Only joined us a few weeks ago.”

“The musician?”

“That’s the one. She hung out with the troupe at lunch today. I think my nephew is ever so slightly smitten.”

“Surely not!”

“He was adorable. All tongue-tied and bumbling about. A lot like you at that age, actually, when you were in the vicinity of someone you fancied.”

“Oh, Zelena,” Regina groaned. “I don’t think I’m ready for him to be a teenager.”

“You may not have much choice, sister dearest. Ready or not. Here the teen years come.”

“He’s only twelve!”

“And hanging around with a lot of fourteen-year-olds.”

“It’s too late to send him back down to regular flying class, isn’t it?”

“Slightly,” Zelena said with a grin, leaning nonchalantly up against the counter by the stove.

Regina sighed. “Do you think that’s what was bothering him? This crush? I thought he seemed a bit out of sorts this morning.”

“Affairs of the heart can be complicated,” Zelena said wryly. She took the lid off a pot that was simmering gently on the stove top. “What’s this?”

“Dinner.”

“Rather a lot of it,” Zelena said innocently. “Expecting company?”

Regina glared at her sister. “Maleficent’s eating with us tonight.”

“Ah,” Zelena said with a grin. She gestured airily at her neck. “Giving her something _else_ to nibble on, are we?”

Regina clapped her hand to her own neck with a gasp, and Zelena laughed.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ve covered it up well! But when I saw you this morning…bit of a different story…”

“Zelena-“

“Don’t fret, sister dear. The boys didn’t notice. They were too busy with cheese omelettes.”

Regina sighed. “Please-“

“And her bed’s _still_ in your front room. Convenient.”

“It’s only there because she didn’t have time to move it this morning!”

“Right.”

“Zelena, nothing happened-“

Zelena gave her a scathing look, and Regina sighed.

“Fine. Yes, all right. We kissed.” In response to Zelena’s snort, she added. “Nothing more. Just kissing.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

“The house was filled with children!”

“You know how to cast a sound dampening spell, don’t you? How’d you think I snuck out of dorms without getting caught all my life?”

Regina groaned. “Breaking curfew is a bit different than having sex for the first time with your son and his best friends sleeping overhead!”

Zelena grinned.

“What?” Regina demanded.

“Anytime you want me to take Harry for a night or two, you just sing out. I _love_ sleepovers.”

Regina glared at her. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Alas. As _entertaining_ as it would be to watch the two of you be all soppy over each other, I have errands to run.” She passed Regina on her way to the door, and engulfed her in a tight hug. “I’m happy for you,” she said, her voice gentle and devoid of teasing.

“We’re just testing the waters,” Regina said. “Seeing how we go.”

“Hmm. I expect to be chief bridesmaid at your wedding. And you only get two vetoes on the speech.”

“Zelena-“

“Have fun tonight. Tell the dragon to behave. But not too much!”

 

Regina was slicing up birthday cake and packing it into a stasis box when Henry came back downstairs, wearing clean clothes, his hair damp from a shower.

“What’s happening with the cake?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m sending some to Ms. French,” Regina said. “She missed out on your party. She should at least get to have some cake.”

“That’s nice,” Henry said carefully.

His mother laughed. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty left over for dessert tonight.”

“Oh, good,” Henry said in relief. He sniffed the air happily and patted his stomach. “When are we eating?”

“Sorry, darling. It won’t be ready for a while. Pour yourself some juice, and I’ll make you a sandwich to tide you over.”

“Cool,” Henry said. He took various sandwich ingredients out of the cold store, poured himself a drink, then sat at the kitchen table to watch his mother prepare his snack.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Regina said as she layered cheese and tomato and mustard.

“Yeah,” Henry said hesitantly.

“Good. I just wanted to remind you,” Regina said, putting a plate down in front of Henry. She kissed his forehead then busied herself with putting the food back in the cold store.

Henry gnawed at his sandwich for a while. Then he said, “Mum?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I think I may be a Storyteller.”

“A Story- Like…in Alan’s project?”

“Yes. Like Rowan the Recorder.”

“Oh. Why…what’s happened…to make you think that?”

“Just, there’s some stuff I wrote in my journal, and it kind of came true.”

“What sort of…stuff?”

“Like…wanting people to stay over after the party.”

“But Alan and Riggs always stay-“

“Yeah,” Henry said glumly, ducking his head back to his sandwich.

Regina took a breath. “I don’t know very much about Storytellers,” she said.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “Not a lot of people do.”

“Except, we _do_ know someone who does.”

Henry looked up at his mum.

“Ms. French,” Regina said. “She’s got friends at the university, who know all about it.”

“She does,” Henry agreed.

“Ok. Good. So, why don’t you write Ms. French a missive? Explain to her what you’ve told me. And we’ll see what she says. And whatever she suggests…we’ll do.”

A slow smile spread over Henry’s face. “Really?”

“Really. You’ll remember to ask for her help politely first. And thank her for the gift she left for you.”

“Of course, Mum!” Henry said with a roll of his eyes. “Huh. Alan and Riggsy said to not tell you. Riggsy said parents always tell you not to do stuff because your ideas are dangerous.”

“Well, to be fair, Riggs’s parents do have good reason to say that.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Henry said with a grin. He jumped up and hugged his mother. “Can I take this upstairs and write the missive now?”

“Of course, darling. Come down and tell me when you’re done.”

As soon as Henry had disappeared upstairs, Regina took her personal crystal from her pocket and called up Belle’s signature.

It took a moment for the other woman to close the connection, and when she appeared in Regina’s crystal, the flickering image did not mask the tiredness in her eyes.

“This is a bad time,” Regina said apologetically.

“No, Regina. It’s good to see a friendly face,” Belle said.

“Surely you’re not lacking for friendly faces at home?”

Belle smiled ruefully. “My sisters can be a bit trying sometimes.”

“Ah. How is your father?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. Oh..I’m not sure, Regina. Some days he seems to be getting better, then suddenly he says he feels awful again.”

“Hmm. We have a very good family healer. I can have him go up there-“

“Thank you. That really won’t be necessary. Zelena’s already offered the same thing, and I’ll tell you what I told her. I don’t think it’ll do any good. We’ve got a good healer here. But I think my father believes I’m the only one who can help him feel better. ‘No one makes a cup of tea like you, Belle’, ‘No one else understands how to plump my pillows just the way I like them’. That sort of thing.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“Yes. I suppose it’s flattering in a way. But I’ll be glad when he feels he’s ready to let go of me.”

“He does know, that you intend to return to Storybrooke?”

“Oh, I’ve made it _very_ clear. It’s part of the reason my sisters are being so…difficult. But I won’t leave him until I know he’s stronger.”

“Yes, of course. I understand. We do miss you, but…family first.”

Belle sighed. “Exactly. You understand.”

“I do. Ah, well. I won’t keep you from a well-earned rest. I just wanted to tell you a couple of things.”

“Oh? Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Yes, fine. I wanted to warn you to look out for a parcel from us. I’m sending you some of Henry’s birthday cake.”

“Oh Regina! You didn’t have to!”

“Nonsense. You missed the party. No reason you should also miss out on the cake. I hope you enjoy it. Now, I’m sending you enough for sharing, but if you choose to share it with your sisters, perhaps best you don’t mention it to Zelena. I think that may upset her a little.”

Belle laughed. “I think my father could stomach some birthday cake.”

“As to the other thing, Henry’s writing you a missive. Please don’t feel obligated to do anything with it. I didn’t realise just how trying things are for you.”

“What’s he writing me about?”

Regina sighed. “He thinks he’s a Storyteller.”

 _“Henry_ does? Oh. I thought it would be Alan.”

“What do you mean?”

Belle smiled. “Every time we cover Storytellers, there’s always at least one student who thinks they are one. I could have sworn it would be Alan this year.”

“So, this isn’t unusual?”

“Oh, no, Regina. It’s perfectly normal. I’m not at all surprised.”

“Well, he’s writing to ask you about it. Should I tell him not to bother?”

“No. No, please let him write. I do miss having his class. It’ll be fun to talk to him about this. And there’s no harm in checking his claim … after all,” she added with a laugh, “following up leads is what a good historian would do!”

“I really do appreciate you doing this, Belle.”

“It’s really not a bother.” Belle grinned. “It’ll give me something interesting to do.”

“Well, if there’s anything at all I can do for you, please let me know.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have Ramsay’s translated text of Trouvian’s poetry handy, would you?”

“Umm. No. But if you tell me where to find it, I will send my assistant to-“

Belle interrupted, waving her hands, and uttering an apologetic string of _‘No’_ s. “I was joking, Regina! You’re as bad as Zelena! It’s only available in the university library up at Kingsrest. And they wouldn’t just let you _borrow_ it.”

“I see. Well. If there is anything _else-“_

“I’ll be sure to mention it.”

 

When she’d ended her conversation with Belle, Regina sat drumming her fingertips on the table for a few minutes. Then she picked up her crystal again, and tried to connect with a different crystal.

“What?” Zelena’s voice was low and urgent.

“Please tell me you aren’t _stealing_ a priceless text from the university library.”

“How did you…I’m not stealing it. I’m just borrowing it.”

“Zelena.”

“I made a very good case for it. They are bringing me all this paperwork to sign. They only just stopped shy of asking me to sign over my firstborn.”

“Well, seeing as you’ve already made such good friends over there, would you mind doing me a favour?”

“What d’you want?”

“Whatever you can find on Storytellers.”

“What..like people who write tales about fairies and such?”

“No, Zelena. Just tell the nice librarian that you want everything they can give you on Rowan the Recorder and other Storytellers.”

“Right. Fine. Got to go. I’ll drop the books by tomorrow shall I?”

“Thank you, Zelena. Please try to stay out of jail. Belle wouldn’t like it if you ended up in jail.”

 

 

Regina had finished packing up the cake and was mashing potatoes when Henry came back downstairs.

“All done,” he said, putting his plate and glass into the dish cleaning box. He came over to Regina and started grating cheese to add to the potatoes; he pretended to be sneaky about filching bits of spiced potato mash from the bowl; she pretended she didn’t see him do it.

As they worked, they chatted about Henry’s day at school and how his friends and their families had weathered the storm. But there was something else on Regina’s mind.

“Henry,” Regina said tentatively, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, tossing the end piece of cheese into his mouth.

“You know Maleficent?”

He stared at her in consternation.

“My flying instructor, d’you mean? The one who was at my party just yesterday? That Maleficent? Yeah, Mum, I do know her.”

Regina sighed. “I think we need to cut back on how much time you’re spending with your aunt. You’re becoming far too much like her.”

Henry giggled. “What’s up with Madam LeFey, Mum?”

“Well, she and I were thinking of trying to be friends.”

“Aren’t you already friends?”

“Not quite. She’s definitely Zelena’s friend. But to me, she was your teacher first of all, and she and I would be more…well, acquaintances I suppose.”

“So what does ‘trying to be friends’ mean? Will you hang out? Have play dates?”

Regina gave a surprised bark of laughter. “The adult version of play dates,” she said, before her brain had a chance to test out the words. “I…well...she’ll spend some time with me - us. Have dinner here a few nights. Maybe go to the theatre with us. Maybe we’ll do something _she_ likes.”

“Like hunting?” Henry asked eagerly. “She’s always talking about hunting.”

“You’ll need to be a lot better on the broom before you can hope to keep up with a dragon on the hunt! And I haven’t been up on one since I was about your age!”

“Oh,” Henry said, a big glum.

“But…maybe we _could_ go flying with her. You and I could ride tandem-“

“Oh! Yes! There’s all these new brooms coming out now, Mum! I was reading about it the other day. Family sized brooms. They’re supposed to not use a lot of magic, but still be pretty good. I can steer. It’ll be fun!”

“So, you don’t mind, if Maleficent is around here a lot more?”

“No, Mum. It’ll be awesome! She’s really good fun.”

“Yes. She is,” Regina agreed with a smile. “But, Henry, I want you to remember something. If at any point you’re not happy with…well… _any_ part of this, I want you to come tell me about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it? I _like_ Madam LeFey.”

“I know you do, darling. But – well, it may be a bit odd for you, having your mother and teacher be friends.”

“Huh,” Henry said, like that possibility had never really crossed his mind.

“And you will always come first for me.”

“I know, Mum.” He gave her a one-armed hug. “Ok, I’ll tell you if it bothers me.” He looked thoughtful. “Making friends when you’re an adult sounds really complicated.”

“Yeah,” Regina said ruefully. “It is.”

“Is she coming over tonight?”

“Yes. After she finishes helping the warlocks.”

“Oh! Maybe she’ll want to play Nim with me again, after dinner!”

“She may.”

“I’d better go finish my homework before she gets here!”

Regina laughed. “Well, if you’re going to be _this_ enthusiastic about doing homework every time Maleficent comes over, I’ll have to invite her every night.”

“Funny, Mum,” Henry pouted as he dashed off upstairs again.

 

Regina was working at the family crystal, glass of wine on the table beside her, when she felt the push of Maleficent’s magic against her wards. As she walked to the door her heart began to race in anticipation of seeing Maleficent again. She forced herself to go slow, so she did not arrive breathless and red-faced.

She opened the door to find Maleficent waiting on the other side, smiling broadly. She was wearing different clothes than she had this morning – dark slacks and patterned shirt under a thick sweater and heavy greatcoat – so she must have gone home to change before she came to the house. She looked well – not too tired, not injured in any way – and she appeared very happy to be standing here, looking at Regina.

Regina felt a matching smile blossom on her face. “Hi,” she said shyly.

Maleficent frowned a little as she focused her senses, and Regina recognised the look – Maleficent was scanning the house, probably figuring out who else was in the house, and where.

Determining the coast was clear, Maleficent asked, “May I kiss you?” Her voice was husky. “I’ve only been thinking about it all day.”

“Oh,” Regina said. For an answer, she reached up and wound her arms around Maleficent’s neck and tried to pull her close; but the dragon was surprisingly immovable and instead Regina found herself propelled forward, colliding against Maleficent’s body with a thump and an out-rush of breath. Then Maleficent’s mouth found hers, in a kiss so thorough that Regina abandoned any hope of drawing air back into her lungs until it was over.

Maleficent moved, maneuvering Regina into the house until the entryway wall was at her back. The door thudded shut behind them. Maleficent kissed her again, slower this time, but just as thoroughly; Regina was folded into the shadowy feel of dragon wings, and Maleficent’s strong fingers gripped her hips and pulled her closer. Regina was moaning softly, and Maleficent’s mouth was roaming, tracing a jaw, sucking on a trembling lip, scraping teeth down the tautness of a neck. Zelena’s words – _something else to nibble on_ – flashed into Regina’s mind, and suddenly she was giggling, like a schoolgirl who’d been kissed for the first time.

Maleficent raised her head and squinted at her. “Are you all right?”

“Mmm. Sorry. We should stop. Henry knows you’ll be spending more time with us. But not about…this.”

“Sorry,” Maleficent said, not sounding at all apologetic.

Regina pressed a final, chaste, kiss to the corner of Maleficent’s mouth. ”Let me take your coat. Then we should go and move your bed.”

“My bed?” Maleficent asked, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it up in the entryway closet.

“It’s still in the front room. And Henry was hoping you’d play Nim with him this evening.”

“Oh, I’d love that!”

“There’ll be no games with that tree taking up all the space!”

Maleficent chuckled, and took Regina’s hand as they walked through the house to the front room. For a moment Regina was lost in contemplation of how perfectly Maleficent’s long fingers curled around her own, smaller, hand. She sighed, not a little amused with herself for being so overly-sentimental.

On hearing the sigh, Maleficent glanced down at her with a faint frown. “Are you all right?”

“Mmm.” Regina moved closer, nudging up against Maleficent’s arm. “Just thinking. How was today for you?”

“Good.”

Regina smiled at the understatement. “Major Stewart said you saved two lives.”

“Ahh. She’s being generous. I was not the only one out there. Her warlocks are young, and inexperienced, but Major Stewart has trained them well.”

“She is good at what she does,” Regina acknowledged.

They were in the front room now, facing the bed, but Maleficent did not let go of Regina’s hand. She gestured with her free hand, waving the bed away, and then again, trying to set the room back to rights. It wasn’t perfect, but Regina wasn’t going to complain, not when Maleficent was kissing her again, soft and sweet.

“Sorry,” Maleficent whispered, as she paused between peppering gentle kisses across Regina’s cheeks and forehead. “I’ll behave when Henry is here.”

“It’s fine. It’s _good,”_ Regina assured her. “But we should get dinner on the table. Henry’s been ready to eat for ages, and you must be starving!”

They made their way to the kitchen, Regina pausing by the stairs to call, “Henry! Dinner in twenty minutes. Don’t forget the table!”

“Be down in ten, Mum!”

Maleficent paused at the kitchen door, sniffing. “Is that rabbit?”

“Yes,” Regina said as she began to open cupboards and take down serving bowls. “With sweetened prunes, and sherry.”

“I ate a lot of rabbit on the borderlands.” An inflection in Maleficent’s tone made Regina turn towards her. “It was often the only meat we could find. It takes a _lot_ of rabbit to satisfy a dragon’s-“

“You don’t like rabbit!” Regina said, dismayed, as the realisation dawned. “I am _so_ sorry! I should have checked!”

“Regina-“

“I have some steak in the cold store-“

 _“Regina!_ Please, don’t. It’s fine.”

“But you don’t _like_ rabbit!”

“Regina,” Maleficent said again, crossing the room so she could take Regina’s hands and still her flustered movements. “I’m not here because of your cooking.” She grinned wryly. “Okay, we both know you’re an incredible cook. But that’s not the reason I asked for a seat at your table. I’m here because I want to be _here._ With you. You could put a crust of stale bread and a cup of warm water in front of me, and I’d still beat a path to your door. Every night.”

Regina huffed. She leaned her forehead against Maleficent’s chest. “I think I can do a _little_ better than stale bread and warm water,” she muttered. She felt the rumble of Maleficent’s laughter, felt Maleficent’s arms go around her and pull her close.

Regina sighed. “You will tell me what other foods you don’t like. So I know to avoid them.”

“Regina, it honestly does not matter to me.”

Regina leaned back so she could look up at Maleficent; her smile was suddenly sultry and teasing. “But it matters to me,” she said in a voice that had dropped to a low, husky register. “I _like_ the effect my cooking has on you. I _want_ you tell me what gives you pleasure.”

Maleficent’s eyes widened and Regina felt the unmistakable sensation of her phantom wings flaring out.

“Your son is on the stair,” Maleficent growled, “And you ask me what gives me pleasure? Oh, you are bold.”

Regina went up on tip-toe and kissed her sweetly. “I asked you about food, my dear.” Then she turned out of Maleficent’s arms, leaving her dragon with a smile on her face that was part bemused and part delighted.

Henry came through the door a handful of seconds later.

“Madam LeFey!” he cried when he saw her. “I didn’t realise you were here!”

“I’ve only just arrived,” Maleficent assured him.

“Table, Henry,” his mother reminded. “Then we can eat.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“I’ll help,” Maleficent said, taking plates from the shelf closest to her.

Between the three of them, they got the table set and the meal served, and soon were sitting together at the kitchen table.

Regina poured Maleficent a glass of deep red wine, and made sure she got a healthy serving of potatoes to make up for the rabbit. Maleficent attacked the rabbit stew gamely enough that she asked for seconds, but Regina noticed it was less the meat than the gravy and vegetables she spooned into her plate. Regina felt somewhat redeemed with dessert – large slices of the last of the birthday cake, that both Maleficent and Henry devoured with every sign of enjoyment – then they were retiring to the front room where Henry set up the Nim board, and Regina kicked her shoes off and curled up on the couch to watch.

 

The game was inspired by the infamous attack on the castle of Nim; players took either a defensive or attacking position. Attackers would maneuver their game pieces to try to overrun the castle, while the defenders deployed their pieces to turn back the attacking forces and keep the castle walls safe.

Henry and Maleficent were evenly matched, even though Maleficent took the position of defender, which traditionally was the weaker position. They played to a draw, and Regina’s murmured, “Oh, too bad, Henry.”

Maleficent grinned at her. “Do you play?”

“A little,” Regina said with a shrug. “And not very much since Henry was little.”

“How about it?” Maleficent asked, with only a hint of challenge, as she re-set the board. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

Regina snorted and uncurled herself from the couch.

Henry and Regina exchanged places, he scrambling up to sit cross-legged on the couch, and she lowering herself to a cushion on the floor so she was facing the dragon across the game board.

As they played, the rolls seemed to go against Regina, forcing her to make moves that left a large section of the castle with only a shallow defence. Ever the hunter, Maleficent began to range her forces to take advantage of the gap. Regina’s next few rolls spread her forces, but thinly. She lost several pieces, and in response had to clump her scattered forces in small groups away from the castle. Maleficent breached the castle’s outer wall, and she, sensing victory, spent her next three rolls bringing her pieces forward.

Then she realised that Regina’s scattered, clumped, forces were perhaps not so scattered after all. Regina had left Maleficent to focus all her rolls on mounting pressure against the outer defences, and used _her_ rolls to move those small groups into positions that allowed them to attack to Maleficent’s rear. It was too late for Maleficent to turn her forces, she had over-committed herself to a forward movement. It became a war of time now; would the attackers break through the castles inner walls before the defenders destroyed them from the back.

The winning move came when Regina played her trump card – a single unit of pieces she had held in abeyance. She rolled to throw them into the gap between the inner and outer walls. Maleficent had to waste two rolls on rendering them ineffective, and by that time, Regina had taken so many of her pieces from behind, she would not have the strength of numbers to storm the castle. She would have to surrender.

Maleficent looked up from the board in disbelief.

Henry, who had been virtually chewing on a cushion with the tension, crowed his excitement. “Don’t feel bad,” he said to Maleficent, “She always does that.”

“What – do nothing to defend the castle, and sacrifice half her pieces just so that she can launch a sneaky counter attack at the last minute?!”

“Win,” Henry said with a proud grin.

“You only play a little,” Maleficent growled at Regina.

“Henry doesn’t like to play with me anymore,” Regina said smugly as she reclaimed her position on the couch and snuggled in next to her son. “I can’t think why.”

“They should have had a defender like you at Nim,” Maleficent said glumly. “I won’t underestimate you again.”

“I think we’d be evenly matched next time,” Regina said. “I had the advantage of watching you play first.”

“Re-match?” Henry asked hopefully.

Regina laughed and kissed his forehead. “Oh no, young man. I’ve let you stay up an hour past your bedtime already! And you have school in the morning.”

“Aww,” he said.

“And practice after school,” Maleficent reminded him. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before we’re ready for Saturday. You’re going to want to be rested.”

“Yes, Madam LeFey,” Henry said, and sighed as he hopped off the couch. “Good night Maleficent.” He turned to his mum and hugged her. “G’night, Mum.”

“I’ll be up soon to tuck you in,” Regina said.

He hesitated for a moment, and her heart sank as she realised he was debating whether to tell her he was too old to be tucked in now. But then he nodded, and said “Okay.”

As Maleficent tidied away the game board, Regina poured them some more wine and tuned the family crystal into the signature of Storybrooke’s music hall. There was a late performance tonight, and soon the haunting sound of a woman’s voice accompanied by a lone guitar came drifting softly from the crystal.

They sat together on the couch, but at opposite ends, wary of drawing too closely to each other while Henry was only a few feet away, brushing his teeth and washing his face.

“Where did you learn to play Nim like that?” Maleficent asked.

“Oh, I’ve played since I was a child.”

“Did Zelena teach you?”

Regina laughed. “No. Zelena was never fond of games of strategy. She was much more interested in more physical pursuits. Like flying. And dueling. And kissing girls.”

Maleficent snorted with laughter. “And that held no interest for you?”

“Not then!” Regina laughed. “Back then I would rather read – books on strategy, and histories.”

“Ah.” Maleficent’s smile was fond and she reached across the couch to take Regina’s hand.

“I learned to play from Mother,” Regina added thoughtfully, lost in memories. “She hated to lose. But her idea of winning was… I remember once, she was defending, and I had played her to almost certain defeat. And she … it was incredible. She threw everything at me. Every piece on the board. I had nothing left. But she – she only had one piece at the end. By rights, that meant a draw, because she’d never be able to hold Nim with only one piece. But she didn’t care. _Remember Regina, if you can’t defeat your enemy, cripple him before you go down._ ”

“Make your loss count.” Maleficent sighed. “I hate to say it, but that is a very dragon way of thinking.”

Regina grinned. “Dragons don’t have the monopoly on bravado.” 

 

Regina slipped away to say goodnight to Henry, leaving Maleficent listening to the music and sipping on her wine.

Henry was in bed, reading.

She smiled when she saw the little furrow of concentration that wrinkled the skin between his eyes.

“Enough for tonight, yes darling?”

“Oh. Hi, Mum. Yes, ok. I’m done this chapter anyway.” He closed the book and placed it on the stand by his bed.

“That’s my boy,” Regina murmured as she perched on the edge of his bed and kissed his forehead.

“Ms. French replied to my missive,” he told her sleepily.

“That was quick of her!”

“I know. She said she’d like to see copies of all my journals.”

 _“All_ of them?”

“Uh huh.”

“Does she know how many there are?”

“Uh huh. She helped us with the page counts, remember?”

“She did too,” Regina said, recalling the boys’ competition to see who could keep the most journal pages. “This is very good of her,” she added.

“Hmm,” Henry agreed with a yawn.

Regina smiled; his eyes kept drooping shut as much as he fought it. “I’ll ask your aunt to let you use the big crystals up at school tomorrow. You can go in to the office during your lunch and make the copies then, and send them off to Ms. French.”

“Okay, Mum.”

“Is it okay for me to tell your Aunt Zelena what’s going on?”

“You mean about me maybe being a Storyteller?”

“Yes.”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. That’ll be okay. Aunt Zelena only teases about unimportant things.”

Recalling some of the things Zelena had said to her about Maleficent, Regina’s smile was wry. “For the most part.” She kissed him again. “Sleep well, my darling.”

Just as she stood to leave, he asked, “Is Maleficent still here?”

“Yes,” Regina admitted carefully.

“Are you going to play her again?”

“Ah. No. I think not. We’ll save the rematch for when you can watch.”

He smiled happily. “Cool. Tell her goodnight for me, okay?”

“I will,” she said, brushing her fingers through his hair fondly. “Now, go to sleep, young man.”

“Yes, Mum,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

 

In the front room, she found Maleficent settled comfortably on the couch, feet bare and tucked in under her. She held out a hand and beckoned Regina over, tugging at her until she was sitting, leaning into Maleficent.

Maleficent slipped an arm around Regina’s waist to anchor her securely. She smiled down at Regina. “He’s asleep,” she said.

Regina grinned. “That’s a handy trick. You should teach it to me.”

Maleficent huffed. “That is not the point, Regina.” She leaned forward and kissed Regina softly. “He’s asleep. So we can do this.”

“Oh,” Regina said, as though the light had only just dawned. She turned so she could wind her arms around Maleficent’s neck. “You mean we can do _this.”_ And she kissed Maleficent passionately.

Maleficent hummed with pleasure, tightened her arms around Regina and pulled her closer. Regina went with a willing sigh, parting her lips so Maleficent could explore her mouth. Maleficent slipped a hand under Regina’s shirt, adding warmth to already-heated skin. Regina broke off their kiss and buried her face in Maleficent’s neck, sighed again as Maleficent’s long fingers continued to stroke up and down along her belly; she felt Maleficent’s pulse against her mouth, and licked and sucked against that faint throb, making a pleased sound when the dragon’s heart beat even faster.

“Regina,” Maleficent said, a pleading note in her voice.

“Hmm?” Regina said distractedly, lost in the twin sensation of soft skin and the suggestion of scales under her teeth and tongue.

Maleficent growled and rolled them, so that Regina was on her back under her. They were pressed against each other from breast to hip, and Maleficent’s thigh was wedged between Regina’s legs, and it felt wonderful to be so close, but it was a relatively snug fit on the narrow couch. A too-enthusiastic move might easily have them both on the floor.

“Should I bring my bed back?”

For a moment, Regina was tempted to say yes. The tree-bed would offer them space and more comfort. But she was certain that if she got into a bed with Maleficent right now, she wasn’t going to let her out of it before morning, and she wasn’t ready to have _that_ conversation with Henry just yet.

“Best not,” Regina said, regretfully.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Maleficent said formally, and pressed a quick kiss to Regina’s mouth to show there were no hard feelings.

Regina giggled. “You’re starting to speak like a warlock.”

Maleficent snorted. She shifted a little so she was lying partially on her side, half tucked in between the backrest and Regina, with her head resting on Regina’s shoulder; Regina’s hand automatically came up to stroke through Maleficent’s hair.

“Major Stewart spoke very highly of you,” Maleficent murmured.

“We go back a long way,” Regina said dreamily, as she scratched her nails lightly against Maleficent’s scalp. “She was head of my guard, when I was married to Leopold.”

“And she followed you to Storybrooke?” Maleficent asked. Her voice was faint and rumbly, and it made Regina smile.

“Not exactly,” Regina replied. She sighed, and her hand stilled. “I wasn’t well-prepared to be Queen. Eva was different. She was ready for palace life, and being married to Leopold. I think she even loved him a little. But I, I had other reasons for marrying the King. And he was a little…unforgiving…of my naïveté”

Maleficent growled softly and lifted her head, fixing Regina with an intent look. Regina slipped her hand out of Maleficent’s hair and clenched it against her chest.

“Major Stewart – _Captain_ Stewart then – she saw what was happening and intervened. No other of the guard would. Leopold was King, and the King is to be obeyed, not questioned.” Regina sighed. “To give Leopold his due, he did adjust his behaviour after Kate spoke out.” She smiled thinly. “I don’t think he’d ever been told off before.”

“Should Leopold be grateful he is already dead?” Maleficent asked, her voice low with menace.

“Oh, Maleficent,” Regina said drily. “You should not be so casual about threatening regicide.”

“It’s not casual,” Maleficent countered. “I would rip the spine out of anyone who threatened you, or anyone you cared for.”

They both glanced, unconsciously, upwards, to where they knew Henry was sleeping.

“I am quite capable of ripping the spine out of someone myself,” Regina pointed out evenly.

“I know,” Maleficent assured her. “But only if you reached them before I did.”

 Regina sighed, not wanting to turn this into some sort of macabre competition. “Anyway. Leopold did what he always did when he wanted to punish someone but didn’t want to look like he was being petty. He sent Kate to Storybrooke. Promoted her to Major, put her in charge of all the warlocks here. Then he ensured that nothing but young or inexperienced warlocks would ever be assigned to her detail.”

“Ah,” Maleficent said. “She’s done very well with them, in that case.”

“I know,” Regina agreed. “It always was Leopold’s blindspot. He thought he was punishing me by sending me here too. He never realised how much I love Storybrooke. How glad I was to be ‘banished’ here.”

“Silly man,” Maleficent grumbled, lowering her head back to Regina’s shoulder. “So you and the Major…were you ever…?”

Regina laughed, “Oh my goodness, no! Kate Stewart was in charge of my protection. She’s far too good a warlock to overstep the bounds of her duty. Then, of course, there was Daniel.”

“Hmm,” Maleficent murmured. “I knew there was a reason I liked her.”

Regina smiled, and returned to stroking Maleficent’s hair.

Soon they were kissing again, starting off tender and affectionate, as they both sought to dispel the shade of Leopold, and the memory of Regina’s first marriage. But, inevitably, their kisses deepened, and their hands wandered under clothing, stoking their passion until it began to burn. Then Regina was gasping and arching up into Maleficent as she left off biting down on Regina’s collarbone and moved lower to take a nipple into her mouth. Wet heat closed over a breast aching with need, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through to Regina’s core.

“Mal!” Regina cried, clutching into Maleficent’s shoulders, at the point where phantom wings blossomed.

Maleficent growled around the engorged nub in her mouth and Regina sobbed, “Mal…Maleficent… _please.”_

Maleficent’s breath was coming in short, sharp bursts through her nose, her eyes were hooded and dark. “You want me to stop?” she asked, her voice low, almost threatening.

Regina shivered. She gripped Maleficent’s face between her hands, pulled her closer and kissed her. It was a gasping, sloppy kiss, all tongue and pleading.

“I should stop,” Maleficent said on a groan. “I’m stopping.”

She readjusted Regina’s clothing, covering her naked breast and the marks that stood out brightly on her chest. She kissed softly along Regina’s jawline, up to her ear, and tucked her face into Regina’s neck; her breathing was still laboured as she fought to bring herself back under control.

“Ohh,” Regina groaned. “I _want_ you. And Zelena reminded me of a sound dampening spell. But…I _can’t._ Not with Henry right upstairs.“

Maleficent sighed. “It’s not a problem, Regina. I want to do this right.”

“Does courting mean we can’t…shouldn’t be having sex?” Regina asked, suddenly curious. She hadn’t really thought about the restrictions courting a dragon may place on them.

“Not if you really want to,” Maleficent said cheekily.

Regina chuckled. “Oh good. So we won’t be disrupting any more ancient dragon customs if I drag you into my bed while we’re still courting?”

“To be honest, it wouldn’t matter to me if we were disrupting _every_ ancient dragon custom by doing that,” Maleficent said piteously, causing Regina to chuckle again.

“Oh, my poor dear.” She kissed the side of Maleficent’s head. “I have something that _may_ help you feel better.”

Maleficent perked up immediately, raising her head to look at Regina with eager curiousity.

“But as it is a school night-“

“Time for me to leave, huh?”

“Wouldn’t want you to be tired and grumpy for the big practice.”

“No. A grumpy dragon is a _terrible_ thing to inflict on anyone,” Maleficent said with a grin.

They disentangled themselves, but slowly, because they kept interrupting each other with kisses and soft caresses, and softer sighs and murmurs of encouragement. But finally, Regina was leading Maleficent to the hallway.

“Get your coat. I’ll be right back,” Regina said, and turned towards the kitchen.

When she returned, she was carrying a covered box. Spotting it, Maleficent’s eyes brightened and a broad smile spread across her face.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Regina grinned. “I take my courtship duties _very_ seriously. And I had a little extra time when I got home from work today.” She placed the box of brownies in Maleficent’s hands.

“This _almost_ makes being turned out into the cold bearable,” Maleficent said, her face grave.

Regina laughed. “Keep _that_ up, and _these_ aren’t leaving the house!”

Maleficent reached out with one arm and hauled Regina to her so she could kiss her soundly. “These are mine,” she growled. “And if _you’re_ not going to be in my mouth tonight-“

Regina groaned and kissed her to stop her speaking. “You’re terrible,” she whispered.

Maleficent snickered and nuzzled Regina’s cheek.

“Will we see you tomorrow?” Regina asked.

“I don’t want to wear out my welcome,” Maleficent said hesitantly.

“I’d love to see you,” Regina said honestly. “And Henry thinks you’re ‘cool’. He was very glad to be able to spend some time with you.”

“We promised him a ring-side seat at our rematch.”

“We did.”

“And it’ll be very instructive for him to finally see his mother lose.”

“Ohhh,” Regina laughed. “We will see about that, my dear. Tomorrow night then?”

“I’ll be here,” Maleficent promised.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I could be all coy about it, but this is the chapter with sex in it. Also, food porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like bloody ages since I updated (it has been bloody ages since I've updated), and so hopefully this will get me to forgiveness a little sooner?
> 
> Life is slightly complicated and hectic right now, so this story isn't getting all the attention and time I would like to give it. However, I am still plodding away with it. 
> 
> Originally this chapter was meant to cover some Henry stuff and conversations and such. But we're going to have to wait on that a bit more. Mal and Regina would not be denied any longer. And I thought some readers may appreciate not waiting another month or so before I could get to all the rest of it!
> 
> Also, there's a tense-shift at one point that is intentional, simply because I think that sort of stuff reads better that way. The next chapter will probly revert.

 

The next morning, Regina woke with a smile on her face, sang through her shower, grinned wryly at herself in the mirror as she brushed concealing powder over the marks Maleficent had yet again left on her throat and chest, and hummed an upbeat tune as she prepared breakfast. She was happy, so happy that she could not keep it from bubbling out of her at every opportunity.

Henry didn’t seem to notice much of a difference in his mother’s behaviour, which was perhaps not surprising as he generally had a slow start in the mornings. And by the time Regina was pulling the car up to the school’s front doors, Henry was so preoccupied with juggling all his journals, in addition to his regular baggage for the day, he only had time for a brief hug and a ‘have an awesome day, Mum!’ before dashing off.

As she completed her drive to City Hall, Regina managed to contain herself to a soft smile. But as she entered the building, two warlocks – Martine Anjou and Davoud Fauz, the lead and deputy in charge of the Mayor’s security – approached her hurriedly.

“Ma’am – could you please come with us?” Lieutenant Anjou said, foregoing any other greeting. “There’s something you need to see.”

“What’s going on, Lieutenant?” Regina asked, her happy mood evaporating.

“There was a package left overnight,” the Lieutentant told her. “It’s in stasis. Strict instructions that only you can open it.”

“We’re holding it downstairs,” Sergeant Fauz added. “Behind screens and shields. But we need you before we can see what’s inside it.”

“Understood,” Regina said. She dropped her briefcase on the main security desk, and waved herself into her uniform – Major Stewart’s boffins had built all manner of protection into the clothing, and Regina did not want to take any chances - the strange package could contain something quite dangerous.

She followed the warlocks into the elevator and along a brightly-lit corridor to the high-security containment room. There had been a time, early on in her time as Mayor, when she’d received a lot of hateful mail from citizens who believed she had no right to her position; some people were convinced she’d done something so horrendous the King could not keep her as his wife, but that she’d found a way to blackmail Leopold into offering her Storybrooke as a price for her silence. Major Stewart had instituted stringent security measures, and even though it had been years since the majority of the public thought that Regina was anything less than a stellar mayor, the warlocks assigned to City Hall still followed those protocols.

There were two more warlocks in the containment room, and a shining ball of shield magic in the centre of the room. Regina’s eyes narrowed as she examined the mysterious package, she could just make out something behind the warlocks’ shield – a second containment spell that glowed a deep purple. She realised she recognised that magic; when she reached out with her own power, it pulsed against her with a familiarity that made her smile.

“Ohh,” she said softly. To the Lieutenant she added, “I think it’s fine, Martine. Will you lower your shields?”

“Ma’am – do you know what this is?”

“No. But I know who it’s from. It’s not a threat.”

“If you’re sure,” the Lieutenant said dubiously.

“I am,” Regina said with a smile. “Lower your shields.”

Lieutenant Anjou nodded at the two warlocks who were maintaining the shielding spell. “Reg, Steven, prepare to lower on my mark. Blocking shields at the ready please. Just in case.” The warlocks rearranged themselves so they could cover the Mayor in an instant; when her men were in position, the Lieutenant said “Now.”

The shield dropped, leaving only the containment spell. Now she could see it clearly, Regina noted the details – it wasn’t really that large, maybe three feet tall and two feet wide, and a cylindrical shape. The containment spell was very powerful, and she could not blame her warlocks for reacting with such suspicion. But Regina felt the touch of the magic’s originator even stronger now, and her smile broadened.

She stepped closer, sensing the warlocks reposition themselves around her as she moved. She reached out a confident hand and brushed through the band of the containing power. The spell fizzed against her skin for a moment, and then dissolved away, feeling like hundreds of tiny bubbles bursting against her fingers.

If you’d asked her what she expected to find behind the containment spell, Regina would not have been able to give you a definitive answer; as much as she was growing to better understand Maleficent’s motivation and behaviour, the dragon still contained unknown depths for her. So she really should not have been surprised – she should have been prepared for anything. And yet, when the spell dropped away and revealed the gift, she found the breath catching in her throat in a gasp of unexpected pleasure.

Maleficent had left her a plant. A thin-stemmed long-leaved plant, of a green so dark it edged up against black, dotted with curved thorns that looked like wicked talons, and every stem bearing a single blazing flower. Literally blazing. Each bloom seemed made up of carefully arranged delicate slices of flame, spanning a range of colours from orange to blue. With the containment spell gone, Regina could hear a quiet sizzle as the fire burned. The scent from the flowers just reached her nose – managing to be earthy and smoky and rich, warming her belly like a sip of fine whiskey.

Martine was shouting out orders, having her warlocks move in to throw up blocking spells, to protect Regina from what they thought was an attack by fire.

“Stop!” Regina called. “Martine, this is not a threat.”

“But Ma’am, they are on _fire!”_

“They should be. They’re fire roses.”

“What in the seven hells are fire roses?”

“They’re rare,” Regina said softly, as she moved closer to the plant. “They grow in the most dangerous of places – where really _nothing_ should be able to grow. But they’re filled with power – a magic that not only lets them live, but protects them from any creature that may think to make a meal of them.”

“That’s not an illusion,” the Lieutenant said, moving to stand beside Regina. She held out a hand. “I can feel the heat.”

“It is real,” Regina said.

“These are _impossible_ things,” Martine said in a forlorn voice.

Regina smiled. “It turns out the world is filled with impossible things, Lieutenant.”

Martine sighed. “How do you know so much about fire roses, Ma’am? I didn’t think you had an interest in botany.”

Regina laughed softly. “I had reason to look them up recently.” She picked up the plant carefully; Maleficent had presented it in a vase of dark crystal, filled with thin crumbly dry red earth. “I’ll take these up to my office.”

“You’re sure they’re safe?” Martine asked, though there was less worry in her voice now.

“Yes. They’re a gift,” Regina said. “From someone who obviously enjoys the dramatic touch a little too much.”

 

When she was safely ensconced in her office, her assistant mollified and the warlocks stood down from their alert, Regina thumbed through her personal crystal and sent Maleficent a quick missive.

_Did you get any sleep last night? Or did you spend all of it scouring the borderlands for a fire rose bush?_

There was no immediate reply, which didn’t bother her; Maleficent did have a teaching schedule after all.

Regina’s work day was uneventful, filled with yet more paperwork, but considerably brightened by the fire roses; the burning blooms bathed her desk in a warm glow and made her smile every time she looked at them, their subtle yet heady scent left her mind feeling like it was wrapped in a fuzzy, cozy, cocoon, - and she was more than a little amused by the startled reaction every time one of her visitors noticed the flowers.

She was playing with a petal, running her finger as close to the edge as she could without burning herself, when her personal crystal buzzed a warning – someone was calling. Assuming it was Maleficent, she thumbed the crystal without bothering to check the caller’s identity.

 _“Well,”_ Zelena said drily. “Who did _you_ have for lunch to put _that_ smile on your face?”

“No one,” Regina said with a long-suffering sigh. “To what do I owe this pleasure, sister dear?”

“I’m calling on behalf of my beloved nephew. Did you really want him to copy all these journals?”

“Oh! I forgot to- Yes. Sorry, Zelena. It’s … I can fill you in on the details later, but Henry believes he is a Storyteller.”

“Like in those books you made me coerce out of the Library?”

“Yes. Wait – _coerce_? What exactly did you-“

“Never mind that now. I have a pile of them on my desk as we speak. So, Harry thinks he’s some sort of…well it’s not quite telling the future, is it? More like an _influencer_ of the future?”

“Yes. That’s a good way to describe it, I suppose,” Regina agreed. “He’s so confused by it all, Zelena. I asked Belle to help-“

“You did?”

“And she was wonderful-“

“Of course.”

“And she wants Henry to send copies of his journal to her. So she can check them to see if there’s anything to this.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think this sort of thing is uncommon. I remember Belle saying something similar about little Bettina Rashpot a couple of years ago. Do you remember her? Sweet child. Spun an amazing yarn.”

Regina sighed. “Yes. Belle said there’s always one.”

“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d’ve thought it’d be Alan though!”

“So did Belle.”

“Don’t worry,” Zelena said gently. “We’ll sort it out. I’ll run these copies and get them back to Harry before end of day.”

“Thank you.”

Now that Regina no longer seemed flustered, Zelena grinned wickedly. “So, dinner must’ve been a hit. I hear Maleficent’s dining with you again tonight.”

Regina made a tutting noise. “You should know by now I don’t like to kiss and tell.”

“Ahh. So there _was_ more kissing. Maleficent wouldn’t confirm or deny.”

Regina bit back laughter, not wanting to encourage her sister. “Things are going well,” she said. “We played Nim.”

“What? Regina! That is _no_ way to seduce a woman! Pan’s spotted _pants!_ Have you learned _nothing_ from watching me?!”

Regina laughed now. “I’ll talk to you later, Zelena. Unless you want to come round tonight for a rousing game of Nim?”

Zelena shook her head. “I am _so_ disappointed in you right now,” she said glumly.

 

Regina was beginning to pack up for the day when her personal crystal buzzed again. She was careful to check the caller identification this time before she responded.

“Henry! Is everything all right? I was just about to leave to get you.”

“I know. Sorry, Mum. But the troupe is meeting up for a sort of emergency meeting.”

“With Maleficent?”

“No. Just us. We need to sort out some signals and timings and stuff. Sorry, I know it’s late notice. But we only decided just now!”

“Where will you be, darling? At school?”

“No. At Riggsy’s actually. He’s helping out with part of it.”

“Really? That’s nice of him. Do you want me to drive you over?”

“No. If that’s okay? His mum said she’d come get us.”

“Yes, of course, darling. I’ll just have a quick word with her. You will be home for dinner?”

“Oh yeah. Wouldn’t miss it!” he said with an eager smile. “I’m really sorry for not telling you sooner Mum.”

“That’s all right, darling. But I’ll be over there to get you at 7:00.”

“Cool. I’ll be ready.”

When she’d ended the call with Henry, she called Riggs’ mother. Riggs’ parents –Ani and Vish Charaka – had both once been warlocks, assigned to the palace, Ani a powerful defense warlock and Vish one of the foremost warlock boffins. They had retired to civilian life years before Regina had married Leopold, so it wasn’t until their sons became the best of friends that the three of them had even met. The adults were friends themselves now, so Regina spent a few minutes catching up with Ani before confirming that the Charaka’s were hosting the entire junior troupe while Riggs helped them work out ‘some timing issues with one of the displays’. Ani didn’t know more than that, but she did know that Vish and Riggs had been working together on a device that the troupe would be using on Saturday.

“I’ll let you know before I head over there,” Regina said.

“Not a problem.” Ani smiled. “It’ll be good to see you again. It seems ages since we talked.”

“You and Vish are always off on adventures,” Regina pointed out.

“Once a warlock,” Ani said with a wry smile. “It gets in your blood.”

“So I’ve heard,” Regina responded drily.

When she’d ended her conversation with Ani, Regina considered the pile of paperwork still on her desk and pursed her lips thoughtfully. There was nothing here that wouldn’t keep until tomorrow. She picked up her crystal again and sent a quick missive to Maleficent, letting her know that dinner was at seven, but she was welcome to come by the house earlier if she’d like. Then she carefully picked up the vase of flowers and left her office.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Regina gets home much earlier than she’d anticipated, and knowing she won’t have Henry’s help, she begins prepping the evening meal almost immediately. The kitchen table is laid for dinner, the meat in the oven, and she is peeling a pot of potatoes, when she feels Maleficent’s magic press against the house wards.

She doesn’t bother to hide her pleased smile when she opens the door.

It does not look like Maleficent has come directly from school; she is dressed almost formally, in a high collared pinstriped black shirt and dark trousers under her leather greatcoat. But her hair is down around her shoulders and she has wound an enormous scarf around her neck, woven from a soft blue material that matches her eyes; her face is made up in pale, gentle colours, and as soon as Regina sees her, she is pulling her forward by the dangling ends of the scarf so she can kiss her.

Maleficent leans into Regina, pressing her up against the wall in a move that is becoming happily familiar to them both, and hums with pleasure as Regina’s mouth roams over hers; she slips her arms around Regina’s waist and pulls her tight against her body.

“You liked the flowers then?” Maleficent asks huskily, when Regina moves away from her mouth so she can kiss and nibble her way along Maleficent’s jaw.

“You scared my warlocks.”

“I’m sorry,” Maleficent says, although she does not sound very apologetic. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, it was,” Regina assures her, returning to kiss Maleficent’s mouth again; softer this time.

Maleficent moves in to deepen their kiss, but pauses for a moment so she can scan the house. “Where is Henry?” she asks with a slight frown, not sensing him anywhere.

“He’s at a friend’s place. I’ll go get him before dinner - which I was just preparing.”

“Ah. Do you want me to come back later?”

“No,” Regina says, unwinding the scarf from Maleficent’s neck, and smoothing her hair back into place with a soft touch. “Come in. You can help me with the rest of it.”

Regina takes Maleficent by the hand and leads her to kitchen, where she sets her to work peeling potatoes while she melts chocolate for the finishing touch to their dessert.

“So, _did_ you like the flowers?” Maleficent asks. She is staring down at a half-peeled potato with focused intent, but there is just enough hesitance in her voice that Regina holds nothing back in her response.

“I loved them,” Regina says earnestly, abandoning the bowl of liquid chocolate so she can slip her arm around Maleficent’s waist and lean into her shoulder. “I’ve been grinning like a fool all day. I’ve never smelled anything so… _intoxicating.”_ A slow smile spreads across her face. “It made me think of you. All day.”

Maleficent makes a pleased sound, reaches down and kisses Regina. “Are they still in your office?”

“Oh no,” Regina laughs, twisting away from Maleficent and back to the counter where the dessert waits. “I don’t need the distraction at work! I brought them home.” She pauses in the act of spooning thick chocolate sauce into dainty glasses and gives Maleficent an arch look. “They’re in my bedroom.”

“Ah,” Maleficent says innocently. “So…what with their scent and all…I’ll be in your thoughts while you sleep?”

Regina laughs. “You like the sound of that?”

“I do,” Maleficent growls. “Very much.”

“Speaking of liking things,” Regina says with a sly grin, as she moves across the room to place the desserts in the cold store. “What are your opinions on lamb?”

“Lamb?” Maleficent repeats, confused at the sudden change of topic.

“It’s what we’re having for dinner.”

“Ohh,” Maleficent says, a drawn out, amused sound. “I _adore_ lamb. Could never get enough of it when I lived up on the Crags. But every so often a farmer would let his sheep run wild over the hillsides, unprotected.” She tosses the last, almost perfectly peeled, potato into the pot of cold water with a satisfying plop. “ _So_ much better than rabbit.”

Regina leans against the cold store and levels a glare at the dragon. “You would _steal_ sheep?”

Maleficent shrugs, a teasing glint in her eye. “When I hunt, anything on four legs is fair game. If the farmers didn’t want their sheep eaten, they should have kept a closer eye on them.”

“Is that the dragon way?” Regina asks, her voice dropping low and suddenly sultry. Maleficent reacts to the sound of it with an instinctive growl, and Regina smiles, all teeth and promise. “You see something you like, and you just swoop in, and take it?”

Maleficent smirks. “Oh yes,” she agreed.

Regina watches as Maleficent dries her hands on a tea towel, her movements deliberate; her cool gaze is fixed on Regina as she says, “See what you like.” She slinks over to the cold store and leans in until her mouth is a shadow’s breadth from Regina’s. “Swoop in.” Her words are not much more than a murmur of warm breath; Regina’s own breath catches in her throat and she moistens suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. She gazes up at Maleficent, transfixed, her breathing shallow.

Maleficent’s knowing smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“And take it,” Maleficent says softly, closing the infinitesimal gap between them to ghost the lightest of kisses across Regina’s waiting mouth. She pulls back and stills, her eyes watchful.

Regina groans in frustration. She knows that Maleficent is making an offer – as much as she may be a predator when it comes to hunting sheep off hillsides, Maleficent is not going to simply _take_ this from Regina. And with the offer open before her, Regina realises that she is through weighing options and consequences – she’s had enough of going round in circles considering the pros and cons of a mother and mayor having sex with a dragon and her son’s teacher. The truth is simple - she wants Maleficent, and she is done with denying them both.

She grabs hold of Maleficent’s collar, and pulls her back so she can kiss her again, demanding more. Maleficent’s initial reaction is a pleased chuckle, but she sinks willingly into the kiss, parting her lips to encourage Regina’s exploration.

Regina knows the moment Maleficent’s desire shifts from teasing seduction to something more primal; it is in the pulse of flaring wings, and the suggestion of scales suddenly pressing up against her stroking fingers; in the potency of the aura of the dragon that overwhelms her senses.

She wraps her arms around Maleficent and presses herself against her body. Maleficent surges forward, and Regina can feel the cold store rock back behind her. But the security of her food stores is not paramount in her mind. Not when Maleficent’s unfastened collar leaves her so much leeway to mark warm skin with tongue and teeth. Maleficent’s scent puts her in mind of the flowers that burn in her bedroom, rich and intoxicating. She bites gently into the soft flesh at the curve of Maleficent’s neck and sucks, hard enough to draw a gasp.

Regina hears Maleficent’s groan, feels her shift so she can reach lower, wrap her arms around Regina’s hips and hoist her into her arms, leaving Regina’s feet dangling inches off the ground. On some level Regina knows that, even though she appears human, Maleficent retains much of the power of the dragon; but this casual display of strength has Regina gasping with surprised laughter and clutching Maleficent’s shoulders for an anchor as she strides across the room.

Maleficent deposits Regina on the table, positioning them so that she stands between Regina’s legs, causing Regina’s skirt to ride up to mid-thigh. “Better,” Maleficent growls, and kisses Regina.

Regina lets Maleficent control this kiss, losing herself in the sensation of Maleficent’s mouth and hands roving across her body. Maleficent presses into her, one hand hot on her bared thigh, the other working to unbutton her blouse; she trails open-mouthed kisses down Regina’s throat and into her cleavage, murmuring broken paeans to beauty and softness and need.

But Regina wants more. Every inch of her hums with an all-consuming desire for more than these exploratory kisses and caresses. She can sense phantom wings wrapped around her, can feel the heightened beat of Maleficent’s heart against her chest. She is enveloped by – being consumed by – Maleficent’s passion. But she wants more. She aches for it.

Regina leans back, lowering herself to lie on the table, curving a hand around Maleficent’s neck to take her with her. Maleficent growls as she bends over Regina, a low predatory sound in the back of her throat; it makes Regina shiver with delight. She feels Maleficent’s hands firm on her hips, then she’s being pulled to the table edge. Regina reaches out to steady herself, and her searching fingers find an edge of woven silk. She recognises it for what it is – she had set the table after all. These were the placemats she and Henry had bought on one of their weekend trips; they’d stopped at a colony of weavers, a small township where people practiced an ancient art of handweaving. Henry had been fascinated because the weavers used no magic, relying instead on seemingly ungainly machines to produce the most glorious bolts of colourful cloth. They had brought an entire chest of fabric home with them, including these placemats. And on those placemats, Regina knows, now rest the bright plates and gleaming silverware that she had put out to use at dinner.

Regina groans. “Maleficent,” she says, pushing against her shoulder.

Maleficent had been nosing into a lacy bra cup, seeking out a hardened nipple. Regina feels her shudder, hears the little mutter of protest Maleficent makes when she called her name. But she pulls away from Regina’s body, stills her hands and raises her head.

“Should we stop?” Maleficent’s voice is thick, heavy, like her tongue would rather be doing something very different than speaking these words.

“Oh, no,” Regina says, “No. I want this.”

Regina sees Maleficent’s eyes light up as she began to lower her head again, so she hurriedly adds – “But we can’t.”

Now there is confusion in Maleficent’s face, and Regina struggles to bring her own chaotic thoughts into some semblance of order so she can explain. “Not here. We’re going to be eating dinner here later. And I can’t … I can’t serve up lamb shoulder and ask Henry how his day was when just hours before we’d been…here on this table. I’m sorry, Maleficent. I just _can’t.”_

“To be clear,” Maleficent says, her voice still a growl. “You are not objecting to the act, but to the venue?”

Regina nods. “Yes.”

“Right. Okay. May I use magic?”

Regina reaches up and kisses Maleficent. “Of course.”

In a moment, a transport spell takes hold of Regina, fizzing against her skin. It is a strangely intimate sensation, to be caught up in Maleficent’s power; it feels like nothing she’d ever experienced before. A dragon’s magic leaves a different mark than a human’s – there was an ancient depth there, but also an airy lightness. And the touch particularly of Maleficent’s power leaves Regina breathless and tingling, as though her skin was suddenly too tight for her.

There was no time for Regina to wonder where Maleficent was taking them, but she had not expected to be carried only as far as her own front room. They materialise on the couch, Regina flat on her back beneath Maleficent, who fits snugly between Regina’s thighs.

“Is this all right?” Maleficent asks, sounding unsure and a little discomfited.

Regina wonders if Maleficent had not intended for them to end up somewhere else, if the dragon’s mind had not been as befuddled by passion as Regina’s own, and thrown off her spell. The thought warms Regina, and combined with the lingering effects of the caress of Maleficent’s magic, causes her desire to flood through her, even stronger than before. “Perfect,” she says, and unbuttons Maleficent’s shirt, pushing it back off her shoulders. She strains upwards so she can lick down Maleficent’s neck. “You’re perfect,” she whispers into the little hollow spaces at the base of Maleficent’s throat.

Maleficent makes an inarticulate, pleading, sound. She shifts so she has better access to Regina, straddling her thigh and propping herself precariously on a knee, so she can reach behind Regina to unhook her skirt.

Regina runs her hands under Maleficent’s shirt, tugs it out from the waistband of her trousers, baring Maleficent’s breast to her eager mouth. When Regina unzips Maleficent’s trousers, slips a hand into the opening, and cups her between her legs, Maleficent gasps and thrusts forward. That hasty movement dislodges her knee; it slips, and she falls.

Everything happens very quickly; one moment Regina was teasing a hardened nipple through black silk, the next, her lover was sliding off her and disappearing over the edge of the couch with a startled yelp.

“Maleficent!” Regina cries, struggling to a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

Maleficent was already rising to her knees; like a vengeful but disheveled goddess, she looms over Regina.

 “I _hate_ this couch.”

“Oh, Mal,” Regina says, taking her face between her hands and kissing her. “You’re not hurt then?”

“May I use magic?” Maleficent asks, obviously too heated to focus on Regina’s question.

“Of course,” Regina nods. “Anything you need.”

Regina feels the fizz of Maleficent’s magic again, and braces herself for another change in location – maybe to her bedroom or to- but with a squeak of surprise she realises it wasn’t her that was moving, but the couch. The cushions underneath her stretch out as Maleficent alters the shape of the couch, widening it by a good two feet.

“Better,” Maleficent growls as she climbs back on top of Regina. “Now, where were we?”

“Here, I think.” Regina smiles up at her, and pulls Maleficent into a deep kiss.

With the extra space on the couch, they can be more ambitious in their actions, and before too long they are both stripped down to nothing more than their undergarments. Regina is still below Maleficent, who takes her time, moving leisurely over Regina’s body with slow caresses, her hands gentle, her mouth soft as she sucks on straining nipples through the silk of her bra. Regina arches up into Maleficent, rakes her fingernails down her back, and pleads, _“_ Mal. _Touch_ me”.

Maleficent hisses and pushes Regina’s bra aside, losing herself in the softness of her, murmuring her pleasure at Regina’s eager reaction when there are no barriers between Maleficent’s mouth and her skin. Regina’s legs fall instinctively open, and Maleficent shifts to accommodate this new position. She straddles Regina’s thigh, and Regina can feel how heated she is at her core. Regina groans, knowing from that warmth, from Maleficent’s shudder when she presses into her, that Maleficent has to be longing for more direct pressure, as much as she is.

But Maleficent won’t let Regina reach between her legs; instead her entire focus is on touching Regina, everywhere but where Regina’s body is clamouring for. She’s stroking up her inner thighs with firm fingers, she’s licking the line that runs down from under her breast to her belly button, she’s nibbling on her earlobe and sucking on her throat. Regina feels the tension build low in her belly, and it winds tighter and tighter, until her muscles are clenching and her breath is ragged. She’s riding a spiraling wave of desire towards oblivion, drawn unrelentingly forward by every touch and stroke and caress Maleficent leaves on her body.

It has reached the point where she cannot even feel Maleficent’s dragon presence anymore – because it is so enormous, it fills the room. It is the most power Regina has ever felt in any one place, and it is all focused entirely on her. She fears she may drown in it. She would be drowning, if Maleficent wasn’t holding her up, wasn’t anchoring her with the sureness and firmness and realness of her touch. And Regina clings to that, so that she’s not swept away and lost in this flood of need.

“Mal,” she moans, “Please.”

Her voice breaks, and Maleficent frowns with concern.

“Is something wrong? Are you not enjoying this?”

“Oh…by the _powers_ …No. That’s not it. That’s not it at all. But-“ Regina laughs, self-deprecating. “I’m sorry. It just…it’s been so long since I’ve let anyone- since I’ve _wanted_ anyone..like this. I…I’m sorry. I'm not going to last very long.”

“Regina-“ Maleficent’s voice is deep, just as it was when she declared her intent to court Regina. “Do I want to spend _hours_ enjoying you? Of course I do. But your pleasure – _your_ happiness – that is always going to come first for me.” She shifts, putting space between her and Regina’s body so she can ease the underwear down her legs, press Regina’s thighs further apart, and slip a hand between her legs. She cups her and strokes, gently. Regina’s breath catches in short pants; she bites down on her lip; her eyes press closed as she focuses on this feeling, willing a firmer touch, trying to keep her hips from thrusting so she can get more sensation out of what Maleficent is doing.

“Look at me, Regina. Please?” Maleficent begs, and Regina’s eyes fly open at the raw desire in her voice. Maleficent’s fingers are moving again, firmer, but still aimless. “Tell me what you like, Regina. Tell me what you want. Please.”

Regina groans. She can’t find her voice, not now, not when her entire existence seems to have been narrowed down into the space of a few yearning inches. She slips her own hand between her legs, covering Maleficent’s. She guides her, moving her fingers to where she needs them.

Maleficent pants through her nose. She kisses Regina hard, biting her lip where Regina’s own teeth had been worrying at it; she sucks that abused lip into her mouth, laves it with her tongue. Regina groans and curls up against Mal, unable to keep her hips from jerking. She uses Maleficent’s fingers like a brush, like she’s painting the image of her pleasure onto her own body. Maleficent’s hand is entirely tractable, and it is the strangest sensation – like she’s touching herself, but yet she’s not.

Then, when Maleficent has learned enough, she slips her hand away, takes hold of Regina’s hand and holds it off to the side. Maleficent’s eyes are very blue and ringed with with a faint trace of green when she brings her hand back to Regina’s body. Regina cannot look away – she knows she is seeing Maleficent’s power glowing in her eyes.

Maleficent moves against her, firm, sure, following the path Regina’s own fingers have laid out. Regina’s given up trying to keep her body from moving to meet Maleficent’s; instead she gives herself over entirely to this – to the sensation, to the desire to follow wherever Maleficent is taking her. She has never surrendered herself so completely to a lover. When her orgasm washes over her, her entire body stiffens; all she can manage is a breathless, wordless shuddering moan. Her toes curl, her fingers clench into the couch cushions – she fears she’s left indentations that will never recover. And then it has passed, and every muscle in her body releases at the exact same moment and she is boneless, melting into the couch, only kept from disappearing entirely by Maleficent’s mouth and hands.

Regina giggles, and after a moment, Maleficent joins her in laughter. This is the sound of celebration, a releasing of a tension that has been held between them for far too long. Regina kisses Maleficent, over and over, her fingers in her hair, scraping against her skin, and Maleficent hums with such pleasure that Regina wants to keep listening to this sound for as long as she can; she wants to fall asleep to it, for it to be the first thing she hears when she wakes up.

Maleficent grins and kisses the tip of Regina’s nose. “Has that taken the edge off?”

“Very nicely,” Regina says, too satisfied to not be smug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing, allowing themselves the luxury of touch and caresses, of whispered endearments, and soft smiles, and growing familiarity. Maleficent begins to work her way down Regina’s body, her destination and intent very apparent.

“We’re going to do this on this couch?” Regina says, her voice doubtful. "Is there room?"

“I can make it bigger,” Maleficent offers, but her mouth is already on Regina’s hip, and suddenly the logistics of the couch matter a lot less to Regina than how good it feels when Maleficent’s tongue swirls against her skin. Maleficent manages to find a position that works; she’s laying at an angle, propped up on one knee, the other draped over the arm rest. She’s got Regina spread before her, Regina’s knees bent and thighs braced against her shoulders. Maleficent is humming happily, as though she’s reclining comfortably in her giant tree bed, and for a moment Regina is tempted to tell her to wait, to call that piece of furniture back to this room. But then Maleficent’s lowered her head, and her mouth has found Regina’s waiting heat, and all concern for comfort becomes moot.

Regina _knows_ her fingernails have dug hollows into the cushions. She’s chasing Maleficent’s tongue, rolling her hips like she’s a marionette on dragon-controlled strings. Maleficent’s hands are on her, easily stilling her movements, and Regina can feel the strength her lover is holding in check. She’s not keeping Regina prisoner, she’s holding her steady, so she can continue to work her body and carry her to greater and greater heights of pleasure.

Maleficent’s gentled power makes Regina even more eager to give herself to her. She knows Maleficent is strong enough to take whatever she wants; Maleficent is likely her match in magical ability; she is certainly Regina’s superior in physical strength. She has travelled the world more extensively than Regina has, she has lived more, she knows more. And yet Regina is aware that they do not consider themselves anything more than equals – she has no doubt of this at all, no doubt that Maleficent believes this as strongly as Regina does.

Regina realises that her surrender is not a one-off thing, something that has happened merely in a moment of lustful need; no, she will continue to give herself to Maleficent. And because Maleficent is not asking for Regina’s surrender – seems to have no expectation of it at all – Regina will give it freely, eagerly. It makes her orgasm poignantly sweet – to know she is safe to lose herself so completely, that she need hold nothing back, that there is no reason to keep anything of herself in reserve or protected. She’s weeping in the midst of it all, happy tears rolling down her cheeks even as she’s calling Mal’s name in the throes of her pleasure.

Maleficent raises her head, mouth wet and eyes bright, sees Regina’s tears, and freezes.

“Regina? Are you…did I hurt you?”

“No. No.” She’s still got tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling so widely that Maleficent can’t keep herself from smiling in return. “I’m _wonderful._ Oh, Mal. Come here.” She tugs on Maleficent’s shoulders so that she moves up, so that Regina can kiss her. Maleficent’s straddling her thigh again, and Regina can feel her – warm and slick against her skin. But Maleficent’s staring into her eyes, concerned. “So, this is good?”

“It’s perfect,” Regina assures her. She kisses her, and Maleficent sighs into her mouth. She caresses Regina, hands moving along her skin, stroking and soothing. Regina trembles, grasping and clutching at Maleficent. Incredibly, impossibly, her body is already ramping up with need.

Maleficent smiles. “Ready to go again?” she asks hopefully.

Regina nods eagerly. Then she’s laughing; she can’t help it. “I’m sorry. Who knew I’d turn into a randy adolescent the first moment you touched me?”

“Oh. I had hopes,” Mal says with a grin, but her words are playful, not taunting. And her mouth is very warm when she kisses Regina, and her hands are very sure as she teases her nipples and caresses her inner thighs.

Regina moves, to give Maleficent more room to work; but this means she bends her knee, which presses her thigh upwards, and Maleficent bears down on her with a gasp. This is suddenly all Regina can think about, Maleficent pressing herself against her. She’s got both hands on Maleficent’s hips, shoving her underwear aside and holding her there, helping her grind down.

Maleficent strokes between Regina’s legs, and they’re moving in tandem. They are caught – they can’t look away – don’t _want_ to look away from each other. The green tinge in Maleficent’s eyes grows more prominent; Maleficent’s magic is rising closer and closer to the surface; her skin is almost glowing with it. And again, all that power is focused on Regina. The thought of it – knowing her happiness, her pleasure, is at the heart of what Maleficent wants – makes the desire flood through her stronger and headier than ever.

But Maleficent hasn’t asked for anything for herself, and despite the aching need that is heavy between her legs, Regina realises she wants nothing more in this moment than she wants Maleficent’s pleasure. So she flexes her thigh against Maleficent’s heat and she curls so she can take her breast into her mouth. She sucks hard on Maleficent’s nipple, and hears her hiss and groan. Maleficent is rocking against her, almost as hard as she’s thrusting into Regina, and Regina knows she’s bringing them both closer to release.

They don’t come together – Regina’s orgasm washes over her first, and she’s lost, her back curving as she rides out the arc of her ecstasy on Maleficent’s still thrusting fingers. Maleficent is saying something, but in a language Regina has not heard before. It’s guttural and deep and sounds like growling. She grinds down hard on Regina’s thigh, and then she’s crying out, calling on Regina’s name like a benediction.

They collapse into each other, laughing again – this time with wonderment as they come to terms with the heights they have drawn each other to. Regina cuddles up to Maleficent, tucking her head under her chin, and kisses her neck. Maleficent sighs and strokes Regina’s hair, kisses her temple. Regina curls her arms protectively around Maleficent’s body and she lazily scratches her nails up and down her back. Maleficent shivers with delight with every pass of her hands, and it makes Regina hum with satisfaction. She turns away a little, stares at the mantle, and Maleficent sees her frown, notices that Regina looks like she’s withdrawing, no longer here, her mind elsewhere.

“Are you regretting this?” Maleficent asks, carefully, worried.

“Oh gods, no.” Regina is quick to reassure. “I was checking the time. And re-working the menu in my head.”

“Oh?” Maleficent asks, worried in a different way now. “What are you re-working?”

“I may have to change my original plans, and just roast the potatoes.”

“Why?”

“I’m hoping to have a little more time with you,” Regina says, and kisses her.

“Hmm,” Maleficent hums.

Regina kisses her again her hands moving up to Maleficent’s shoulders and shifting her so that Regina is leaning over her. Regina’s hands wander over Maleficent’s body, removing what’s left of her clothing, stroking her hip, her belly, her breasts, using her tongue and teeth on her neck.

Maleficent moans with pleasure, but still she sounds concerned when she asks, “What are we giving up though? What _were_ you going to make?”

Regina startles back, but she smiles when she sees Maleficent’s desire-glazed eyes and cheeky grin.

“Oh, you’re right to be worried you’re missing out," she teases. "I was going to make this dish – first prepared for a Princess Regent. Shall I tell you about it?”

Maleficent growls as Regina’s kisses grow deeper; she strokes one hand through Maleficent’s hair, but the other settles between Maleficent’s legs; her touch is gentle, barely there.

“First, I’d take _all_ those potatoes you peeled for me,” Regina whispers into Maleficent’s ear, interspersing her words with kissing Maleficent’s mouth and nibbling and lightly sucking on her earlobe. Regina’s voice is rough, thick, resonating with lust; it becomes another thing she touches Maleficent with, her words caress against Maleficent’s nerves and drive her faster and further towards the destination that Regina sets out for them both.

“Then I’d slice them. Thinly” She uses her teeth to graze along Maleficent’s jaw and down her neck, and when she shudders and whimpers, Regina slides her fingers into the wet heat between Maleficent’s legs. She does no more than that, and Maleficent chokes back a sound that would have been a plea.

Regina smiles. It is the same smile she gives right before she destroys her in Nim, and Maleficent moans.

“I’d arrange those slices next,” Regina whispers, making innocent words drip with sultry promise. “I’d have to be careful,” her lips are pressed up against Maleficent’s ear, and she bites down lightly when she finishes speaking. She moves her fingers, so slowly it feels like continents moving. Maleficent shudders under this light touch, and pants through her nose as she struggles to keep some semblance of control.

“I’d have to be gentle,” Regina’s still whispering, brushing her fingertips over where Maleficent flutters and twitches with longing. “Precise. Careful.”

“Regina,” Maleficent finally breaks and pleads.

“But I’ve not even told you about the butter yet,” Regina says, and pouts so prettily, Maleficent growls and crushes her mouth to hers. When she releases her, she falls back against the cushions with a sound of surrender.

Regina’s eyes are very bright, and she begins speaking again. _“Mounds_ of butter,” she says, her voice low, her lips wet against Maleficent’s ear. “I’d melt it, just warming it through, so it stays silky and smooth.” As she says this, she moves her fingers more firmly, stroking where Maleficent is warm and silky and smooth.

“Then, I’d stir in lashings of cream,” Regina says, as her fingers circle.

Maleficent groans and arches back, but then she’s shaking her head, gasping with laughter. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she manages to get out.

“I can stop,” Regina offers, solicitous, her fingers stilling.

“No!” Maleficent virtually howls.

Regina makes soothing shushing noises as she begins to move again. “I’d add rosemary for heat, garlic for bite, then _drown_ the potatoes in it.” She slides her fingers into Maleficent, takes her moan with a kiss. “Soak them in cream,” Regina continues, her voice as relentless as her fingers. “Then into a hot oven.”

Maleficent has given up trying to be quiet or still; her body writhes even though she’s trying to anchor herself, both hands grasping the armrest above her head. Regina rises up on a knee so that she can keep pace with Maleficent’s undulating hips. She leans over and buries her face in the curve of Maleficent’s neck. “They come out hot and golden,” she growls against Mal’s skin. “And smell _so_ good.” She inhales deeply and licks a long, slow path along Maleficent’s neck, up towards her ear.

Maleficent moans. “Regina, _please.”_

Regina relents; she curls her fingers, brings her thumb into play. She moves her head so she’s looking down at Maleficent, their noses nearly touching, mouths only centimetres apart, eyes fixed on each other. Maleficent’s pupils are blown dark with pleasure, and Regina’s eyes shine with a giddy joy.

But Regina keeps speaking, unable to stop, the words falling from her lips, breathy and lush. “Ohh, it’s the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth. Warm and wet and so _so_ good. It melts on your tongue, floods your mouth-“

And Maleficent is undone. She cries out Regina’s name, her hips jerk wildly, uncoordinated in release.

“Just like that,” Regina says, panting a little; she sounds satisfied, but keeps working to tease out Maleficent’s orgasm for as long as she can. Maleficent reaches down and grasps Regina’s wrist, begs her to stop. She shivers as Regina finally slides her hand from between her legs, rests it stickily on Maleficent’s hip. Maleficent’s eyes are closed, but she can feel Regina’s smile, warm and contented, feel the rise and fall of Regina’s chest as she recovers from the exertion of the last few minutes.

Maleficent releases her hold on the armrest and hauls Regina into her arms. She kisses her fiercely, growling into her mouth and sucking on her tongue. She turns Regina so she’s wedged in against the backrest and kisses her until she’s finally stopped shivering and Regina’s soft pants have evened out.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Maleficent says at last.

Regina grins at Maleficent and smooths a soothing touch down her arm. “I offered to stop.”

“Humph,” Maleficent grouses. She cuddles into Regina, who wraps her arms around her and kisses her cheek. “You have to make me those potatoes now.”

“Not tonight,” Regina says.

“No,” Maleficent growls. “Not tonight. And not for anyone else. Ever again.”

“Ever?”

“Ever, Regina. I mean it.” Her voice is heavy with finality. “It’s just for me. It’s _mine._ ”

Regina kisses Maleficent’s forehead, tries to bite back her laughter, but her voice still sings with it. “Okay, Mal,” she promises. “Just for you.”


End file.
